Enraptured Prisoner
by BrieflySweet
Summary: Panem was divided into 13 kingdoms fighting among themselves for power and land. That all changed when District 2 joined forces with the Capitol and conquered Panem. Now Panem is split into two kingdoms, one ruled by the Capitol and one ruled by District 2. The war has ended and prisons are filling up. But why does King Cato order Katniss to be taken to his chambers instead? AU
1. Capture

**For those of you who are confused, this is a little prologue:**

**Panem used to be divided into thirteen kingdoms (twelve districts and the Capitol). They have been fighting amongst themselves for power for as long as most can remember (District 4 citizens wouldn't come to District 3 and if they did they wouldn't be welcomed, etc). That all changed when the Capitol and District 2 played dirty. Joining forces, they took down the other districts and now Panem is united into two kingdoms, one ruled by the Capitol and one ruled by District 2. The Capitol's deal was that if 2 joined forces with them and they won the war, 2 would be given half of Panem and get to rule themselves while the Capitol controlled the other half and the rest of the Districts. **

**The war has just ended. There are a numerous amount of prisoners and as a result, both kingdoms have to fill up their dungeons. Katniss Everdeen was a citizen from District 12 who was captured in the war. Now she and other prisoners from District 12 are to be taken to the King of District 2 to decide their fate. ****The problem is that fate has something in mind for Katniss Everdeen. **

* * *

"Bring forth the prisoners."

The great double doors swung open and in stepped the General. He strode forth with a proud swagger, still in his armor, polished after battle. His breastplates reflected the lights of glittering chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. Behind him a small army of soldiers imitated his walk as they pushed a group of people in chains and ropes towards the throne. Their ragged and tattered boots left an ugly trail of dirt and blood on the royal red carpet.

"Your Majesty." The General and his crowd kneeled down before the steps that led up onto the platform that held the velvet-and-gold throne. The throne was being occupied by a brawny, well-endowed man dressed in rich, flowing robes and a fur cape. A golden crown rested on top of his tousled blonde hair. His eyes, of which were a piercing blue, stared at each prisoner in turn and received many stone glances and glares.

Although her expressions were free of emotion, Katniss's heart beat wildly inside her chest. This king did not look like a merciful, considerate man. The icy gaze of his eyes held wrath and anger.

"Arise." Even his voice had an undeniable coldness woven through it.

Immediately the General and his men stood up again, dragging the prisoners along with them. Katniss tried not to wince as a soldier jerked her up by yanking her braid. The last thing she needed to show in front of this king was defeat. Defeat made you look vulnerable. Defeat made you a target.

The king had risen as well. He seemed to tower over them all, making them look puny in comparison.

"Citizens of Panem," He boomed, "You stand before my people and I today as prisoners of war. You have failed to protect what's left of your kingdoms, and now they rest at the hands of the Capitol and myself."

A prisoner in the back let out a howl of fury and tried with all his might to stumble towards the king. The guards yanked him back and slapped him in the face, hard. A handprint immediately formed on the young prisoner's throbbing cheeks.

The king let out a peal of cold laughter. "You see, disloyal subjects? This is why you now stand before me. Your people are too weak and foolish to know where you stand. You are now completely under _my_ mercy."

The same prisoner who had screamed before hacked a gob of spit onto the royal red carpet, leaving a hideous milky stain. The guards reached for their swords, but stopped when the king raised a hand.

"Some of you will learn. You will see the error of your past ways and gradually accept the life given to you. Those of you will soon be living better off than you were before, I can gurantee it. I _care_ about my subjects. Others will not be so fortunate. You will never see the error of your ways; a few of you will try to change everything to the way it was, and for that you will pay the price with your life. Disloyalty and treachery will not be tolerated in this kingdom. I understand that this is a pretty big change for most of you, but I recommend you to bear with it since you will be living in it for a long, long time. Or perhaps not."

He didn't even have a chance to sit back down before screeches of protests went up all around the room.

"We'll never live with your rule!"

"You're a disgrace to Panem, you filthy, cheating..."

"The irony is that _YOU_ betrayed us by joining up..."

"We'll never surrender...always keep fighting for justice..."

"We'd rather perish than live with you as our king! District 12 FOREVER!"

"DISTRICT 12!" The prisoners chanted.

The king inclined his head, a sadistic smile flitting across his face. "If that's what you wish, so be it. Brutus!" He turns to the general, who immediately stood to attention. "What do you suggest we do with these prisoners?"

Katniss watched Brutus's look of confusion turn into a wicked grin of sharp yellow teeth. "Sire, I would throw most of these prisoners in the dungeon and kill some in the meantime. I'd leave them to rot, Sire, but keep some of the women, Your Majesty." A cold feeling grew below Katniss's stomach.

The king let out a howl of cold laughter. "Excellent, Brutus. Take the men to the deepest, darkest of our dungeons."

Katniss's heart sank. Her voice blended in with that of the other women's, except hers called for Gale, who was being dragged away. Katniss's heart swelled as she saw some of the Peacekeepers treated Gale, slapping him in the back of the head everytime he made an attempt to turn around. They better not hurt him! They better not kill him...

The only remaining prisoners in the room were women, forced to stand in a straight row facing the throne. There was a rigidity hanging about the room that did not want to be broken. Unlike most of the women in the room, Katniss was trying to meet the king's eye. The others were either glaring with every fiber of their being or glancing down, hoping to avoid anybody's gaze altogether. Katniss didn't believe in showing her fear. They'll hurt her more if they saw that she was afraid, she decided. And so she decided right then and there to never show much emotion except for hatred, which spoke for itself.

"My fair ladies." Mockery glittering in his eyes, the king stepped down from the platform and strode over to them. He was too close for Katniss's liking. She tried to scowl and glare at the same time as the king walked down the row, inspecting every prisoner up and down closely. "What shall it be for you?"

Katniss didn't know (and she wasn't sure she wanted to know), but if the king asked what was to become of _him_, she'd answer immediately, rotting in hell. It was more of an easy way on him, in her mind. He deserved so much more than that.

She was the very last one in the row. As he approached her, she forced herself not to turn her head away. Her lip curled in disgust and her body tensed when she knew he could feel her uneasiness. To her dismay, the king stopped right in front of her. Their gazes met, both cold, both icy, both narrowed. The other prisoners held their breath as Katniss and the king held a staring contest.

His eyes, two gleaming sapphires made out of ice, pierced into hers. "My lady, to what do I own the pleasure of your-"

But to what he owned the pleasure of hers, she never found out. Her hands suddenly reached up-and striked his face.

For a moment, it seemed as if time had stopped right then and there. The crackling fireplace was the only source of noise, for one could hear a pin drop on plush carpet. Everyone looked as if they were gaping statues.

Then the spell was broken and gasps echoed from around the room, most of them uttered from the king's men. The women stared in horror. Some buried their faces in their hands, others stared at her, and still others looked down. Katniss exhibited such courageous leadership skills. She was a good warrior and they had looked up to her, may she rest in peace.

But it seems that was not to be.

Katniss's heart pounded lividly inside her eardrums. She hadn't meant to do that, hadn't meant to do that at all, but now it was too late. She forced herself to remain emotionless and rigid as her mind swirled with horrible ways she could be executed. It took all her strength to keep herself from trembling, but the worst seem confirmed as she looked back at the king and saw the slow, menacing smile spread across his face.

He put a hand on his throbbing red cheek. "Take the prisoners into the dungeons. They are to be in different cells from the men."

Immediately, the soldiers scrambled and began dragging the women off. Nobody uttered a word and the only sound in addition to the fireplace were the clinking of metal chains.

"Not her," the king said softly as a soldier reached for Katniss Everdeen. He looked at the king in surprise, but the king's face showed he meant business. So the soldier strode back towards the others to escort them to the dungeon.

"KATNISS! KATNISS!" The cries of a little girl made Katniss's heart leap. She opened her mouth to answer, but they were already gone.

The king turned to the remaining Peacekeepers in the room. "Take her to my chambers."

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**What'd you think of the first chapter? I appreciate any comment, concerns, or feedback you have. Please review and tell me if you like it so far or what I can do to improve or just your opinion of this.**

**This first chapter is kind of like a prologue of its own; that's why not too many details are included but I was planning to include more in the next chapter, including first person POV'S, that is if you'd like another chapter at all. **

******So I had this idea for awhile and I'm quite excited to start working on it. I checked around and there are a bunch of other fics about Panem being a kingdom but I believe they all pair Katniss up with Peeta. I hardly read Katniss/Peeta fanfic so I don't know most of them, but I believe mine is unique in its own way. **

**Oh, and if you liked this, I wrote another story called Freedom of a Mockingjay, also Cato and Katniss AU. Check it out if you'd like :) **


	2. Prisoner

**Hi I'm here to answer some of your questions :) This story will be darker than Freedom of a Mockingjay and will feature a darker, more ruthless Cato with M stuff. Nevertheless he will have a background, the question is can Katniss find it in a situation like this?**

**Some of the minor/lesser characters may have been changed a little to fit into the story.**

******OMG am I surprised by the reaction to this! Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and followers but most of all thanks for just taking the time to read this :)**

* * *

Katniss

**T**he passages were winding snakes, long and hollow, dimly lit. Making our way through the castle seemed to take an eternity. The war had sharpened my senses. I jumped at every shadow and shivered at every breeze, but according to the silence of the guards, me contacting hypothermia is none of their business.

But then again, why should it be? I'm just another face of another kingdom, another part of a faraway place that is no more. Why should my well being be of concern to District 2's all high and mighty?

District 2. Now whenever I hear its name, the embers of anger burn intensely within me. District 2 wasn't exactly an ally, but it was tradition that the districts stand by each other when it comes to facing the Capitol; that's why thirteen different kingdoms had survived for many years. Unfortunately, 2's recent coronation put an end to that. The man that had thrown my people in his dungeons and ordered me to be taken to his chamber. He had the coldest eyes with the coldest expression and cruelest face that I have ever seen on a human being. Something tells me I can't rely on those cold eyes to take care of my family.

"Hold your horses," barked a guard sharply as I tried to to wretch myself out of his grasp; I can't help but panic when I imagine Prim's sweet face nestled against our worn-out mother, cramped in dark, damp narrow space. I couldn't bear to see the little girl I raised lose her humanity like so many others in the final war. Nobody ever truly wins in a war.

I bite my lip to stop myself from crying as we reach two magnificent ebony doors. One of the guards opened it in a rather delicate way, while the other held onto me and pushed me in. I turn around just as the doors slam harshly, and I hear the click of a lock.

There is no point in grappling a locked door handle, so I save myself the expense of being a fool. Instead, I allow myself to wander and explore the interior of the room. It was a large room, and a rather odd one at that because the shape of it was circular, like a tower. Then again, towers are in castles, and until now, a castle was only a luxury I could never dream of even stepping foot in.

A giant canopy bed of mahogany arose like the sun out of the plush red carpet. Just like the throne, it stood on a platform overlooking the room, displaying its magnifience over all the other things-furry throw rugs, a gigantic marbleplace cackling to the left, velvet sofas and armchairs, a pair of small doors, another pair of smaller doors, and ornate-framed paintings. The paintings fascinate me. Most of them are landscapes or scenery of the sea, mountains sparkling with snow, or faraway castles tucked in forests and grottos. And they're pretty big, but the biggest of them all would be the portrait of the king. Framed in gold, it portrayed the king of District 2 in a suit of royal armor on the back of a white horse. The horse was rearing up its front legs like it was about to stand up, and the king had his sword drawn and from the look on his face, he seemed about to strike an enemy. And striking it was indeed, I begrudgingly admitted to myself. But he is still a tyranny of a king, unfit to rule.

"Remarkable, isn't he?" came a woman's voice.

I spun around as quickly as I could, trying to hide the flame burning in my cheeks. There, standing behind the closed doors (how did I not hear them open?), was a stranger and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She wore the same dress that maids wore, but she looked so different from them. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow with the very light of the fireplace itself. Her dark red hair was bundled on top of head into a soft bun. Her butterfly eyes sparkled, her lips curling into a smile at me.

I turn away, feeling ashamed as I peek at my dirt-rimmed nails, rough, scraped skin, and coarse tangle of hair. I've never been a big fan of outer appearances, but right now, looking at a clean maid, I realize how wrecked and dirty I really am, what this war has turned me into, and how bleak things are looking for me.

"I always take the time to appreciate this painting when I'm cleaning his room," the maid said, stepping next to me, in front of the king's portrait, and then quietly added, "It's the only portrait in his room."

"Why is that?" I blurted before I can stop myself. I can't help. War-my instincts have changed. Now I am a creature of endless curiosity, with a thirst for knowledge, with a need to know. And...and if the people were ever to rebel against the Capitol and District 2 to win back what was ours, the more we know, the better off we'll be. Even if it means we have to associate with traitors and people who side with the traitors.

The maid's eyes inspected me not with coldness but with interest. "His Majesty has very precise taste. If one's painting does not suit his style, he would never allow their work in his castle."

"Then maybe the artists should go work for another king in another castle," I said irritably, thinking I had more to worry about for Panem than artists.

To my surprise, the maid wiped a tear from her eye. "I am afraid that is not to be, for if His Majesty doesn't approve of a painting, he has the artist...put to death."

This does nothing but fuel the fury within me. "Outrageous!" I shouted. "Tyrant!"

"Shut your mouth!" The maid bellowed at me. I stared at her in disbelief. She gripped her feather duster like a weapon in one hand as she pointed the other one at me. "I'm sorry, Miss, but please do not call our king a tyrant! He is a most gracious and fair ruler."

That comment strikes me with irony before I realize that this maid may have grown up in District 2. To District 2, yes, he might be a gracious ruler, but to most of Panem he was a tyranny and a traitor, and I am no exception to that opinion.

"I thought he was recently crowned?" I sneered. I didn't have any good comebacks, but I figured I just wanted to have my say. To be right.

At this, the strange maid beamed at me. "Yes! And hasn't he done a splendid job?"

I wanted to reach out and strike her across the face, but I refrain from doing so because she's a rather naive wench and she probably doesn't know better. Growing up here, she probably doesn't know how much the other kingdoms suffered or endured only to be betrayed by her kingdom in the end.

"Why are you here?" I muttered, half to myself. I didn't really care but I wished her gone. I was the only prisoner who was taken to the king's chambers.

"Oh yes, His Majesty wanted me to help you feel at home!" She chirps simply as if we were at tea and discussing whether to have pumpernickel or sourdough bread for secondary dessert.

I almost choke over my dry, bitter laugh. "I'm sure I would feel upmost at home in a prison."

"No, no, you're not going to prison!" The maid chuckles heartily, clearing missing my point, "I was ordered to give you a bath and dress you in some clean clothes, those warstains can be _so_ hideous and dirty, but don't worry, I've got some special bubblebath just for you, by His Majesty's generous orders, I _do_ hope you like peach..."

And she opened and walked through the smaller pair of doors before I could ask her what bubblebath was. But she mentioned peaches in there, and if there was any inclusion of food, I haven't eaten for fifty hours. At home I endured this kind of hunger, but there were no woods here to comb for substance.

Unfortunately, a peach bubblebath, I found out, is not a meal course with morsels. It involved me unbraiding my hair (which had been braided before this month). It involved a huge marble tub that resembled a well, except much cleaner and bigger. It involved the maid pouring a bottle of some orange, peachy-smelling liquid into the water, of which then orange bubbles sprang out from. It involved me taking off my clothes and getting into the tub and letting her use oozing sponges, oily herbs, and fragant soaps on my body. I refused heartily on the last one, but then tears came to the young woman's eyes as she told me she'd be punished if she didn't complete her task. I don't care one bit for anybody in District 2, but the way this maid cries when someone is about to get hurt reminded me so much of Prim. I missed Prim so much. I would never want her to get hurt. Besides, I can relate to being pushed around by the king.

So here I am sitting in the tub, letting the warm ripples soothe my aching muscles. It dawned on me how vulnerable I was right now, and I felt the pink heat blaze on my cheeks as the maid gently scrubbed the years of grime away. No one had ever seen my naked body before except for myself and some medical nurses, including my mother. And here I am now, and here I feel the sponges leave my skin tingling and red, and how the oily herbs make my skin feel smooth again, and how clean the fragant soaps are rinsing me.

And all throughout this, the maid didn't stop talking.

"At first, the guards were whispering about your appearance," she said, squeezing out excess water from a sponge, "Nasty, mean things! I thought you were very pretty...and brave. How hard the war must've been on you, my dear, only for you to lose in the end..." She shook her head. _Tsk-tsk_.

I growled, but she took no notice and just continued on. "Then again, as my friends in the kitchen often say so themselves, His Majesty would never give his attention to an unworthy maiden, would he now? If he's got his eye set on you, he's got his eye set on you because he sees you're somebody special. His Majesty has only the finest tastes, does he not, Miss?"

I didn't know what to say to that (his bedroom and bathroom _are_ fine, but I'll never admit that), so I just said, "You can call me Katniss." Then I blinked. She can? So much for never socializing with the enemy. So much for not ever giving them my name.

She beams. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Katniss. I'm Lavinia." I grit my teeth as she rolls my hair into a messy bun and kneads it on top of my head, her nails digging into my scalp.

If I stay stilent, perhaps she'll go away.

I realized the mistake I've made once I'm out of the tub and wrapped in a fluffy golden towel. I was really beginning to feel the exhaustion the toll of war had taken on me, and settling into something so soft and warm for once manipulated me into having a light mind. Lavinia led me back into the bedroom, and I only followed her because this bathroom lacked a window.

She pointed to something laid out for me on a couch. My eyes fell upon it and my heart clenched in horror. All the cuts in the corset made it look like a face, grinning at me, waiting to swallow and devour me whole.

* * *

Third Person Pov

**T**here had never been a place that felt more dark and cold, and never was there cramped space that felt so empty.

Prim shivered. She couldn't tell whether it was from cold or hunger. The prisoners had already been given their daily supplement of a tough biscuit, which was hardly enough. Ignoring her own rumbling stomach, she gave hers to a sniffling little boy huddled with his mother in a nearby corner. The mother opened her eyes, said thank you, and then closed them again. Prim wished she could do something more than give them a smile. Never had she felt so helpless as a healer.

And Mrs. Everdeen was not looking well. It started with her shivering under their small pile of blankets. Prim felt her arm through her sleeve and discovered that her mother was cold. Ice cold. So she wrapped Mrs. Everdeen and herself under the blankets and they huddled there. After awhile, things got strange. Warm. Too warm. Prim felt her mother again, and found out that she was burning hot. She immediately gave her all of their blankets and made sure she was cocooned in them. Then Prim scooted into a corner by herself with her back turned towards the others in the cell. There were so many of them, all starving, broken, helpless. She felt bad, but she'd feel even worse watching them suffer and not being able to help them.

Prim wished that Katniss was here. Katniss, her big sister, the girl who raised her like a daughter. Katniss, the strong, motherly one, the one who'd always know what to do. Katniss, the one who sang to her and assured her everything was going to be okay. How she would do anything for one of Katniss's warm hugs right now! She wished Katniss would laugh with her. She wished Katniss would smile at her.

Silent tears rolled down Prim's face. What had they done with her sister? Wherever Katniss was right now, please let her be okay. Please. She would do anything.

* * *

**T**hey bowed to him as he strode by. Some bowed out of admiration, some out of love, some out of fear. But they all must bow because they were required to. For once he took no notice of them. His thoughts were on somebody else, and his feet, clad in alligator-hide boots, couldn't take him there fast enough. Nobody was scorned at or harassed, and nobody complained. The servants and guards went about their way, and things carried on in usual for the castle, except for the arrivement of new guards because of all the prisoners.

King Cato did not have to meet them. They were guards and trained by his general. He called upon them when he needed them, and when they weren't needed, they were ignored by him. He left them patrol the halls, punish the lessers, and have their way with captives. He himself was going to have his way with a captive.

He ignored the guards who bowed to him and pulled open the double doors for him. He stepped inside haughtily, and immediately one of the young women already inside shrieked and fell onto her knees, clutching a creamy pink corset in her hands.

"Beg pardon, Your Majesty!" she cried with her hands over her eyes. "It's not my fault she wouldn't wear it over her dead body! I didn't want to kill her! Please have mercy..."

A thin-lipped smile twitched onto King Cato's face. "You may go, Lavinia. Thank you for your effort."

Lavinia raised her head in disbelief; the next second, the corset was dropped onto the floor and she had dashed out the door. Taking off his cloak, King Cato turned to face the other woman who stood there motionlessly.

"How do you fare, my lady?" He asked in a tone that gives Katniss goosebumps. He strode forward to kiss her hand, even though she did not bow the respectful bow. Kisses on hands were generally only received by princesses and other noblewomen, but King Cato was amusing himself.

Katniss drew her hand out of his grasp and turned away, scowl on her face. She didn't see the king's face break into a malicious smirk.

"How does my kingdom take to your liking?" He asked, as if she wasn't purposefully ignoring him.

This really sprung a leak into Katniss's cauldron of fury. She whipped around, her teeth bared, eyes bright with rage. "You may _think_ this is _your_ kingdom," she spat, hands balled into fists, her body trembling with the heat, "But it never was, and it will never be. For you and your whole rotten lot of District 2 have betrayed us and become a Capitol lapdog, and for that you do not deserve to call yourself royalty. Cowards!"

She was satisfied with her work, but only for a second. The king's face was livid, like it was made entirely out of stone. There was not a drop of emotion on his face as his deadly icy eyes burned holes through Katniss's defiant ones. She managed to conceal it, but in this moment she was truly frightened.

A sudden smacking noise and Katniss found herself lying on the floor, her head dizzy and vision blurry. The king had slapped her so hard that his hand was ringing, as well as her cheeks were throbbing.

With one knee on the ground, he leaned over her until his eyes were piercing directly through hers. "_Do. **Not**. Call. My. People. Cowards_." He hissed through gritted teeth, his done deep and dangerous.

Katniss nodded. She lay there gasping for breath, her chest heaving up and down, her towel still wrapped tightly around her. She was surprised that she was surprised that Lavinia had fled just like that. She expected nothing better from anybody in District 2, and this was what she was going to do from now on.

"Get up."

She didn't. She wouldn't obey his orders. Not in a century. Not in a lifetime. Not in a millennia.

He tried to hide the excitement in his voice. "I guess we shall proceed by the hard way then."

Before she had time to register that thought, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up with him. The towel fell off and he couldn't help chuckling at her small shriek as her hands fled to cover her body.

"You have no reason to distrust your king, love," he whispered into her ear. He was toying with her, waiting for her to snap.

"Fuck off," Katniss said, almost tearily. She hadn't given up her fight yet. If she were to go down, she would with all the dignity and pride she could muster.

King Cato went rigid for a second before he bared his teeth at her. Then, gently, ever-so-gently, his fingertips reached out and softly ghosted her shoulders. Katniss slapped his hand away, and his smirk broadened. She realized what happened a moment too late and her hands flew back to cover herself. "What do you want from me? What do you want from my people?!" she couldn't help screaming. She hated feeling like a fool.

"I want...everything from you. As for your people, it is not any business of mine what befalls them, as they are considered traitors now that I have security over my kingdom."

"Why?!" She cried out. She didn't understand. They didn't do anything, provoke him. Sure, District 12 had fought with District 2, but which district hadn't? "Why are you doing this?"

He came up behind her and hugged her waist, his head resting on her shoulders. She gasped but made no other movement that rocking to shake him off; she was afraid to uncover herself again. (And somewhere, somewhere in her self-proclaimed "sick" mind, she enjoyed the warmth vibrating off from him...nobody had ever held her like this...No! She has to stop this nonsense.)

"Nobody makes a fool out of me," he snarled into her ear. "Especially in front of my subjects. You have a strong hand for a fragile woman..."

Katniss's heart sank all the way down to her toes. She knew she shouldn't have slapped him. She had been such a fool. If it weren't for her temper, she might be with Prim and the others right now, planning an escape or a rebellion. "You weren't angry before..." she said uncertainly.

"I've been angry. I've been hiding it up until now." He smiled, almost genuinely. "I'm a very dedicated actor."

Katniss said nothing. She'd been made a fool of again, but this time, she was the one who was responsible for it.

"But you are not really fragile, are you? I saw you when you were fighting. What a strong warrior. I believe I had asked for your name. You never answered." He growled threateningly.

"Why would my name be of concern to you? I only tell my name to the people who matter," she snapped.

His eyes flashed, but she noticed a minute too late. He picked her up and threw her onto the canopy bed, dropping on top of her. Katniss frantically wiggled and struggled to free herself to no avail. He was too strong, too brawny, too muscular. And she hated admitting it, but he was damn brainy as well.

"At this point, girl, you can either give into me and obey my orders, or we can go down the hard path again," he said, and she knew he meant what he said. She felt fear surging through her. This man was a monster, a bred-killing machine who was as merciless and as malevolent as one king can get.

She tried not to look him in the eyes again. He was handsome, devilishly so, and there was no way she would deal with the devil.

"If you're not going to choose, then I will choose for you," he warned.

She would spit again, but she had learned her lesson not to spit. She decided to go forth with a classic insult.

His cold eyes lit up with an excitement even she couldn't miss. "As you wish." She was thoroughly confused when he got off of her and began fastening his cloak again.

"You-you aren't going to-" she cursed herself for blurting out again. Damn, was she going to have to watch her mouth.

"Oh believe me, I will, love," he said as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace, "Later. For now I must deal with your first punishment. As you and your little group of rebels have refused my offering of peace, they will be punished as severely as you will be." An idea suddenly came into his head. "You seem to have a special relationship with the boy whose name you screamed in my throne room and the little girl that was crying your name. I think I'll start with them."

Katniss's world unhinged. She forgot all about dignity and pride as she got up from the bed to meet his eyes. "Not them!"

He started walking. He wasn't really sure what he would do with them. He wanted to scare her. He wanted to see what she would do.

Pictures of her best friend from childhood and her lovely little sister swirled in Katniss's head and that was enough for her. "Please, no!" She leapt off the bed, off the platform and landed onto her knees. She walked in front of Cato and kneeled before him, shocking them both.

As his cold stare continued to penetrate her, Katniss felt her dignity shatter into a million pieces. "Please don't hurt them," she croaked, choking over her own words in her panic, "Please not them." She felt pathetic but she knew that he could really hurt them if he wanted to.

He would never admit it, but a part of him was touched by this. "What are you going to do about it?" He challenged her. He was still a king. He still held authority.

"Anything! Don't hurt them, I'll do anything!" she cried.

Then she gasped, but it was too late to take back what she had already said.

* * *

**Sorry for falling behind! I was reading White Fang since it came with Call of the Wild in one book, and I gotta say, one of the best novels I have ever read. If you like dogs and the Call of the Wild, then White Fang is definitely something to consider reading! I get so inspired by it! Woohoo! **

**So originally there was going to be a lemon in this chapter but then I decided to ask for your opinion first, since it might offend some people. I thought it wouldn't offend most, but I didn't include it just in case. Please tell me in your review whether you'd be offended or not!**

**A shout-out to all my readers from Freedom of a Mockingjay, YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING SUPERSTARS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING BY TO READ THIS OTHER STORY OF MINE! **


	3. Victims

**I really hate how my updates usually take at least a week, but real life and the holidays can be thanked for that (Although I do love them) I wasn't sure if I wanted this chapter to be long or short, but here is my compromise with myself. I kept on revising this.**

**Forgive me if I give the characters some extra personality traits to fit in with this story. I'm trying not to make them ooc (By the way, this chapter is rated M for a reason because it has some details and this will not be a happy-go-lucky story, you have been warned)**

* * *

** P**rim was worried. The dank place only seemed to grow danker and darker. The biscuits were as tough as ever, the water warm and rather stale. She could not keep giving the little boy her biscuits-she could only endure starvation for a short while before the toll of death, and death, in this case, was not an option. Her mother needed her and she needed Katnis. She needed to make sure Katniss would be alright. She wasn't sure what she could do, but she knew she loved her sister very much and would never want to see anything happen to her. The dear practically raised her on her own after their father had perished in battle.

Prim looked at her mother and suppressed a weak smile. Even though this woman emotionally left her and Katniss after the death of their father, Prim was sure that deep down, her mother was still in there, still cared about them. She'd forgive her any given second. In fact, Prim decided she couldn't really blame her. She couldn't imagine what she would do if the love of her life was taken from her in something so corrupt and wicked. That was like having the weight of the world collasping upon your shoulders! And that sure didn't sound like a very nice feeling.

Prim adjusted the blankets a little so her mother's frail body was completely covered. Her head rested on Prim's fragile lap-Prim had laid her mother down so she would be more comfortable. Mrs. Everdeen was growing sicker by the minute, and Prim didn't know what to do. She desparately wished that Katniss was here-if only Katniss was here, everything would be alright. Gale being here would be nice too; he, at least, was another familiar face. Even though most of the people in this cell were from District 12, Prim had never really associated with them except to help her mother with a few wounds. Who was to fix the wounds of healers when they needed help?

Silent tears dripped from Prim's sad blue eyes, and every once in a while, they landed onto the head resting below. Then Prim's gentle, soft hand would lovingly brush away the tears from the frail face, but then more tears would fall again.

* * *

Gale Hawthorne was furious. He had not had meat in a long time. To him, meat meant more than meat. Meat was, however crude it sounded, to him a form of expression, a symbol of freedom. All his meat were fresh and caught by either him or Katniss Everdeen. Meat meant he had the ability of a hunter, of a predator. Meat provided a sense of strength and power, battle and survival.

It drove him crazy when he had no meat. Gnawing on the flaky lumps they call biscuits did nothing but itensify his hunger. This place very much so reminded him of the wilderness back home, and left a sense of homesickness and helplessness hanging about him. The other men in his cell usually devoured theirs and then preyed upon those too weak or hungry to defend themselves when the Peacekeepers turned the other cheek. They reminded him of creatures that roam the wild, creatures too hungry to be tamed. Unlike them, Gale sat alone in a corner, deep in thought and protecting his own mere morsel of life. He worried for his family, whom he knew were serparated into different cells. He worried that his mother and younger siblings could not fend for themselves. He had never felt so helpless as a hunter before.

But worst of all, he feared for Katniss. He didn't see her among the women and children sitting in the opposite cell. But Prim and her mother were there, their faces so gaunt, hollow, and miserable. He desparately hoped that Katniss was placed in another cell, maybe with his siblings or mother. There, that's it. That had to be it. He didn't allow his mind to think come up with other theories.

_CREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAKK. _The prison gate harshly swung open. Two Peacekeepers rushed in and grabbed a snivelling boy that looked so much like Rory, it made Gale's heart skip a beat. Then they passed a dim ceiling light, and Gale breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't his brother. But his teeth clenched when they dragged him out of the cell and pulled out from each of their belts long, flashing whips. The boy's cries left echoes in Gale's ears that would probably haunt his dreams tonight.

"How dare you scoundrel steal from another scoundrel!" roared one of the Peacekeepers, his tongue flicking out in laughter.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry! I-I-I..." The wails ricocheted off the cold stone walls of the prison.

"Shut up! We don't care, rat, we just like beating you!" sneered the other Peacekeeper.

"NO! NO! _Please_ don't hurt him, he's just a child!" screamed a woman with a round belly from the cell across.

Something flared inside Gale.

* * *

If there was one thing Lavinia hated, it was when the cooks were extra busy. Busy seemed to be an understatement. King Cato had ordered so much food for the feast and on top of that, he also ordered an extra meal to be ready tomorrow. The cooks needed all the help they could get, and there was nobody else who could deliver food to the prisoners.

That meant Lavinia had to go down, down, down into the dungeons. And that place gave her the _creeps_. She felt bad for thinking about this way, but it was difficult for her to toss biscuits to the huddled groups of ragged, starving prisoners whose faces bore close resemblances to living skeletons. Seeing their decaying souls through their empty, dead eyes made her feel their misery as well. She wished there was some way she could help them, but since her king ordered them to be there, then they probably deserved it. After all, His Royal Majesty did know best. He was the best.

Lavinia took a deep breath, and pushed open the small door behind the kitchen. She held her breath as she slid down the chute, trying to keep her skirts tucked underneath her so the cold metal could not meet her skin. She landed with a soft_ thump_ and brushed herself off. Then she hurried down the rather empty hall, determined to get out of there as quickly as possible. Ignoring her thudding heartbeat, she pushed opened the door.

What she saw made her stop in her tracks, until one of the Peacekeepers barked at her to "get it on and moving, girl." She did her job as quickly as she could without looking anybody in the eye. But that didn't mean that she didn't look at them. Once her pockets were empty and half the people still weren't fed, she turned and hurried away as fast she could in the way that she had come, slamming the door behind her with a _BANG_.

Now, were His Majesty's chambers in the East Wing or West Wing again?

* * *

"_Anything_?"

**K**ing Cato couldn't fight off the smirk in his voice.

Katniss's heart skipped a beat. _What have I done? _She mentally screamed at herself. Then she took it upon herself to think a bit more rationally. _I'm doing this for my baby sister, who I love more than anybody in the world. And Gale, my best friend. I can't let them be hurt anymore than they are._

"Just don't hurt my friends and family," she found herself pleading with the king.

King Cato's smirk appeared on his face this time. He didn't have to hide it anymore. This was too easy.

"If you truly mean anything, I will not hurt a hair on their heads," he said in a gentler tone. It startled Katniss and made her look at him. He only smiled at her with a genuine smile. Katniss's brain grew a bit fuzzy. No one had ever smiled at her like that before-except for Prim, only it was a couple of years ago. The smile was dazzling, enhancing, enrapturing. She began to smile back before she remembered what situation she was caught in.

Inwardly, King Cato laughed. She was so naive, so innocent. She'd be his and there was nothing she could do about it. He swiped something off the floor and then scooped her up as well. She stiffened like a doll in his arms. He dropped her onto his bed once again and leaned down. Breath tickling her ear, he whispered, "Put the corset on." Then he threw the shameful piece of lingerie in her face.

Katniss trembled as she stretched into the tight scrap of satin. She was always very self-conscious about her body, but never had she been so self-conscious as of now with a _man_ watching her dress. And not just any man, but_ him_. The man behind the recent merge of the kingdoms, the man who had betrayed the districts, the man who had imprisoned her family. Her mind was plagued with rage and shame on herself. And how _dare_ he applaud after she finished!

She whirled around, furious. King Cato stopped applauding, but he smiled at her, and she wanted to scream. He was torturing her and she knew it, and yet she was too fearful to do anything about it. She hated herself for this.

Without warning, King Cato's hand slapped the back of Katniss's thigh with a heavy force. She fell to the bed, lying on her back, breathing hard, recovering from the shock. She could feel anger radiating off of herself; this man was pushing her too far. He knew it, too, and he enjoyed it very much.

He pressed his lips against her ear, to her great discomfort, and said against her soft flesh, "Now, fair maiden, do tell me your name so I may address you."

Oh, the temptation to spit and tell him to piss off! But the shadow of threat hovered there, ironically enough, and threatened her. Katniss swallowed the bile in her throat and whispered hoarsely, "Katniss Everdeen. My name is Katniss." Another enemy she told her name to!

King Cato's lips stretched into a malicious grin. "Ah,_ Katniss_," he rasped, "I, King Cato Aufidius, am pleased to make your acquaintance. Call me Cato. You are going to love what I'm going to do to you."

Katniss felt her breath hitch. She froze physically, but her mind was running around in all directions. She didn't want to call him anything except for tyrant. Having seen too much for her age, she had ideas of the meanings behind his words and she did not like them, did not like them at all. "Please-" she didn't want to beg, so she attempted to talk in a casual manner, as if he had just offered her a simple tea and she was declining his offer.

This was a mistake. King Cato was expecting her to be submissive or to at least beg-ask him what he meant. He saw her rather confident tone as a challenge to her authority, as if he had offered her a gift and she simply turned up her nose and said, "Oh, please,_ that_?" He leaned close to her face.

"Do _not_ challenge me," he hissed through gritted teeth (Katniss saw his eyes flash dangerously), "You better sit back and obey, Katniss, or you can watch all those you love suffer, call out to you, and you would be helpless to save them." He said this with so much venom that Katniss felt as if she had just been backhanded across the face.

Her throat dried up and her heart felt as if it were being squeezed. This man truly was a monster. He had no scruples, no morality, and absolutely no mercy, she concluded. He was capable of anything, he knew as well as she did.

King Cato was thrilled. He loved pushing her buttons. Seeing how far she would go before she cracked under his power. He leaned his head closer and closer to hers, dipping down until their noses almost touched.

"Kiss me," he whispered huskily.

She couldn't-she'd never let herself live it down.

He pressed his lips against hers. A gasp emitted from Katniss, and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. She didn't kiss back, but he wasn't worried; he'd have plenty of time to bring reactions out of her. He smiled to himself as he kissed and sucked at her tender neck, moving lower and lower.

Katniss was afraid of where this was going. She had never so much hugged a man before; some boys back home had attempted moves on her before, not many because she always had her arrows with her, but some did. She had harshly rejected all those who tried. She saw it as a waste of time with Prim to protect and her district at war. She didn't have her arrows now (another thing she dearly missed) and the war was over. Surely, surely maybe just once she ought to enjoy what pleasure a man could offer her...

_NO! What are you thinking! _She furiously told herself. _He is your enemy, nothing more than a brutal monster. He wants to get revenge on you for slapping him in front of his court. He despises you...as much as you despise him. _

Katniss glanced down, feeling a sudden chill. He had peeled her corset off of her so that she was lying stark naked underneath him. Her arms automatically crossed her chest, and she quickly clamped her legs together. But he overpowered her with his strength. He straddled her and uncrossed her arms from her chest, giving each of her breasts a kiss. She tried to struggle but only one look of warning flashed at her, and then she laid limp and allowed him access to her chest. "Good girl," he breathed as he squeezed and massaged her heavy breasts. She bit back her whimpers, despising herself for feeling this way, for succumbing so easily to him, for allowing him to touch her as he liked. _It's for Prim, _she reminded herself.

He left her breasts pink and sore as he trailed light kisses down her torso. When he reached her waist, she couldn't take it anymore. It felt so dirty and wrong and she didn't want her first time to be like this. "Stop," she said, trying to push him off of her.

His eyes narrowed as she pushed harder against his lean torso (only one layer of robe was left on him, the rest discarded sometime ago). "Pardon?"

"We can't do this," Katniss cried, "_I_ can't do this. It's gone far enough, it has to stop here, right now."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll stop it."

"Do you really think you can?" His voice was nothing short of husky. He took one of her nipples into his mouth and _sucked_ on her breast, emitting a gasp from her.

"I-I can. I can, and I WILL!"

He laughed. "You may speak strongly, but down there you know you don't really want me to stop." He sucked on her other breast.

She shuddered when he said "down there" (his sense of humour was dark and obscene to her). "Try me." She said before she knew what she was saying.

"Katniss, you will regret defying me." Without much warning, he slipped a finger into her warm center. Katniss yelped with surprise. "But don't worry, you're going to like it, I'll make sure of that."

Katniss pathetically tried to pull herself away from his finger. He began moving it slowly, curling and uncurling it inside her. She gasped as pleasure spasmed throughout her body, releasing foreign sensations into her very core. He rubbed quicker, adding a second and then a third finger. Voices echoed around in Katniss's head. _I can't...no...this is wrong...can't like it..._

The voices disappeared when his fingers lightly treaded her rosebud. Whimpers escaped her throat, making him up his speed. It took what little was left of her self-control not to buck against his hand. He would alternate between fast and slow, heavy and light. Katniss saw stars and white lights flash in her vision as he nearly milked her with his hand.

Cato pulled his fingers out of her. A smirk lit up his face as he gazed at his glistening fingers. "It looks as if you want this after all."

Trying not to bemoan the loss of friction, she whispered hoarsely, "I-I don't want this."

"You lie."

He pinned her wrists above her head and spread her legs further apart until he could lower his head in between her thighs. "Beautiful," he crooned softly against her pinkness. His tongue flicked out and gave her rosebud a light fleck.

Katniss let out a whimper. She decided that if he was going to take his time, she wasn't going to enjoy it. She wasn't ready to be intimate with this man and though she would never admit it, this intimacy had built a wall of bashfulness in her. Here he was, breathing on her most sensitive spots, and it made her both self-conscious and angry. She wouldn't let him seduce her into submission. She'd just turn her head to the side and ignore him. It was much simpler thought than done, though. The minute Cato's tongue swirled around her sacred place, she could feel her body arching up to him as if it had a mind of its own. Fluid pooled between her legs, all that of which his tongue eagerly took care of. Sometimes he gave a long hard stroke and she squirmed in ecstasy, letting out little whines. She knew she couldn't help her body's natural reactions, but she hated herself for this nonetheless, hated the sick part of her that was enjoying this.

When he finally withdrew his tongue and raised his golden head from in-between her thighs, her body clouded with a very unfamiliar but amazing sensation. It made her uncomfortable but at the same time she really wanted to let go; it would be the only way to relieve herself of all that tension. She glanced up.

The king was smiling at her with not a cruel smile, but a smile that softened his sharp features. It made Katniss want to smile back, but she forced herself not to. She realized he was not only screwing with her but her state of mind as well. Unintentionally her eyes trailed down until they landed upon the very thing she had been trying to avoid. She didn't realize his robe wasn't tied. Her eyes flew back up and she flushed a pale pink.

Cato had been caressing her thighs, but he looked up just in time to see her flush. When she blushed, her breasts also turned a shade of light pink. He found himself getting more turned on than he already was, and he took one of her supple mounds into his experienced mouth again. Katniss couldn't seem to hold back the moan that detached itself from her lips; the part of her that yearned for his touch only grew stronger. She felt him rubbing her in her intimate spot again, this time so gently that she was soaked through.

She decided that she had had enough. If there was any way she could prevent it from happening, she would. She didn't dare to slap him or do him any physical pain. She feared he would lose his temper and then she would lose Prim. She decided to try reasoning with him, even though she had never been very good at it, if she thought so herself.

"P-please, wait..." her voice was hoarse from all the pressure she was holding in. He didn't stop, but he did slow down, and now he was looking down at her, his eyes directly trained on hers. Internally, she took a deep breath.

"S-stop...I c-can't go any further," she said, her voice shaking badly but not from fear or cold. A pang of disgust welled up in her when she realized what it was from.

He didn't reply at first. He looked carefully into her eyes, and then down at her trembling form. "You don't want me to stop," he said softly. He let his hand caress her side.

She shivered, wanting to close her eyes but not daring to. His hands were rough and warm and so _big_. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she did want him to continue. She just didn't want to acknowledge it, and there was no way she was going to allow herself to accept it.

He'd be lying if he said that her vulnerable and naked body beneath him didn't make him harder. But he didn't deny it; instead, he welcomed those thoughts.

"Face it, Katniss," he breathed. "You want me as badly as I want you." And with that he had a grip on each of her ankles, prepared to pull them further apart.

"No, wait," she croaked, trying to move her wrists (they were still being pinned down by his other hand). "Please. Don't. DON'T! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" She screamed frantically.

Katniss realized her mistake when she saw a shadow of anger creep over his handsome features. "No one can hear you," he hissed through his teeth. He then yanked her up harshly by the arms and threw her back down. She was thrashing and flaying wildly by now, afraid of stopping and afraid of what would happen if she stopped. He easily dodged her lashes, but his patience was wearing thin. "And even if they could, they won't be able to help you."

But he didn't want to rape her. Even in a kingdom like District 2, the act of rape was against the law. However, the laws of District 2 only protected citizens born and raised there, saying nothing about other citizens of other districts. Although he would face no consequences, the last thing King Cato wanted to turn out like was his father. It would be a lot more favorable to make her beg for it instead. He had an idea of how much it could break that fiery attitude, how much it could take away from her.

"Only you can help yourself, Katniss. Only you can end this." His breath was low and musky and it _screamed_ to her.

His job didn't look that difficult. Katniss's head was spinning. She felt her center throbbing. She felt a fire burning in her, spreading flames until it reached the tippity ends of her toes. She wanted it. She wanted it really bad. All she needed was a little encouragement.

Cato provided it. He allowed his hands to caress her everywhere with the softest, most sensual touches. He brought his muscular, warm body close as possible to hers without physical contact. He brushed himself against her center once, and she let out a gasp at the feeling that came with the contact. He pulled away quickly, and Katniss whimpered at the loss of her friction. Even his smirk was sensual-Katniss's new guilty pleasure was imaging those warm pink lips meeting her flesh again...

He continued to maneuver her, barely managing to contain himself. At last he made a show of peeling his robe from his golden muscles, finally showing her his smooth, well-endowed chest. He flexed his muscles and let out a deep, rumbling growl that seemed to echo from somewhere deep within his throat. Katniss couldn't take it anymore; she had melted into a puddle by now, a hot, panting puddle that trembled with need. Tentatively she felt that muscular chest...

And there was the signal he'd been waiting for. His lips came crashing down to meet hers, and the kiss that resulted consumed both of them in a wild, frenzy passion. She made no attempt to stop him as he spread her legs wide and gripped her hips firmly with his large hands and finally did the deed that he had wanted to do for a long while.

Katniss felt as if something went out with a _POP!_ Fiery infernos of pain attacked her body and she screamed so long and loud that the stars flickered in the sky. But the pain subsided quickly and gave way to pleasure as he thrusted in and out, her hands gripping onto him for support.

Cato had never felt so good in his life. She was a virgin; it was pretty obvious, but she was the tightest he had ever experienced. His hands held her hips in place. He moaned and grunted like a starved animal finally being rewarded for all its suffering in hunger.

Katniss's mewling turned to screaming when he threw her legs over his shoulder. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he hit her sweet spot. She felt her response building up, second by second, and the pressure seemed heavy enough to kill her weakened body. She couldn't deny how good this felt, especially since he was making his bed- the giant canopy king bed-rock.

A new inferno burned in their bodies, one of lust and longing and satisfaction. The fire consumed both of them, the intensity and heat leading them to a new ecstasy. To say it was passionate was an understatement. Feelings and emotions, ones of lust and rage and longing and anger and desire, ones that had been locked up for months, all poured out.

Admist this, a chambermaid was passing by, carrying a bundle of towels. She hear the noises inside, took one glance at the expressionless guards standing near the door, and made a run for it. Nobody chased after her, but she decided that she was not going to be around when His Royal Majesty stormed out of there raging for blood.

His Royal Majesty was far from angry this time, in fact, quite the opposite. He had never been this pleased, and he left a reward, a warm, thick reward that seeped into Katniss. She rewarded him too, and this added to his pleasure. Both of them laid there, panting in the aftermath of what glory they had just experienced. One of them wore a rather smug expression with arms tucked underneath him, while the other quivered with hunger and weakness and the consequences of her actions. The smug one noticed his partner's discomfort. Smiling at her, he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in the warmth of his body.

"So beautiful," he murmured into her ear, "Thank you. So beautiful."

His words brought a strange comfort to her-nobody had ever called her beautiful before. Tears welled up in her eyes, and he leaned forward to taste them. After her cheeks were dry (or semi-dry), he stroked her lovingly and held her until she fell asleep, her body exhausted. He then quietly removed himself from their embrace and tiptoed out of the room after tucking her in.

* * *

He sighed as he lowered himself into the tub, the steam purifying his senses. What an interesting day he'd had. And not to mention, one of the pleasant in a long time. He was in a delighted mood as of now.

There was one thing that was puzzling him, however. He was a king, a powerful king, and things he could not understand bothered him. The fact that he was king made this bother him even more. What he could not figure out was why he did what he did at the end. Normally after he had been with a wench or some poor rat with no nobility, he would've left them weeping and buried in shame without a second glance. But he had comforted this particular wrench, even called her beautiful. He hated admitting it, but he did mean it. She didn't seem so special upon the first glance, but once he looked closely at her face, he saw the beauty that adorned it. And when she slapped him, he was humiliated and angry alright, but he didn't miss the fire in her eyes. It spoke out to him, left him a message he could not understand, and he was fascinated by it, the chance to put out her flame.

He took a sip from the sparkling wine glass that sat by his side, along with the tray filled of dried cheese and cherries that resembled ruby chips. Her attitude was fine but no match for the satisfaction that she had given him. He was happy that he didn't have to rape her (in District 2, the usage of fingers and mouth did not count) and it was a windfall that she consented, or at least didn't complain. He smirked, reveling in his skill. Only he could break her, he thought as he took another sip.

It was a common practice to torment enemies-that was the way to show your power over them, he had been taught. The more brutal, the better. Show less mercy, more people will learn to fear you. Show no emotions-feel no emotions. Emotions were a weakness. His father had taught him all of this and more. He cringed as the memories came flooding into him like a river. He peered at his wounds, old scars that still clung to him all these years, serving as a reminder. They didn't hurt anymore physically, and he had learned to drown out his emotions. But although he didn't feel anymore pain, there was an emptiness that took its place.

Cato blinked out of his memories. Fuck, all this delight left him to be sentimental. He leaned back against his arms. His gaze landed on the bouquet of roses that sat in the corner on a platform supported by the tub.

Cato loved roses. It was something he did not say, but his castle stated it. His room consisted of many bouquets and so did nearly every other room in the castle, except for the three kitchens. He didn't want there to be smoke hanging around precious roses. There was an entire garden dedicated just to roses. He knew that the old shit King Snow, the ruler of the Capitol, also loved roses, but he highly doubted that Snow loved roses for the same reason as him. Cato loved roses because to him they are to him a symbol of hope, a hanging dream, a second chance. If he closed his eyes, he could see every detail from that fateful day...he shook his head. Now was not the time. Besides, the past was the past.

And here he was stuck with spitfire girls like Katniss Everdeen. Well, Katniss wasn't so bad. Not bad at all. He planned on paying her a visit tomorrow. He'd bring a "gift" just for her.

* * *

**Hmm, what's the story behind the rose? And what is Lavinia up to? How will Prim and Mrs. Everdeen and Gale fare? What is Cato's gift? Coming up next chapter!**

**[Keep in mind District 2 and 12 are (or were) enemy kingdoms, and every character has a backstory (at least every main one).]****This chapter took such a long time because I kept on revising all the details (I DON'T want this story removed, I've worked so hard on it). And I hope it's not too wordy, also worked really hard to sculpt that into shape. If you guys didn't like this, I have a cleaner version, just let me know if you want that to replace this. **

**Thank you thank you thank you so much! I got 24 reviews on the first chapter and expected much less on the second, but you guys decided to be amazing and give me 25! I can't stress how much I appreciate that. I also really appreciate all the favorites and followers. And this story just got added into the Catoniss Club community, so thanks so much for that. **

**To all my reviewers in the last chapter: Abigail25, youcantbandagethe-damage, dragonflame, we burn brighter together, vampirebooklover09, Juliette, rayleen14, thepinkmartini, jackie1565, Guest, Hidden in Dreams, Blackdove085 (BrieflySweet accepts your love and thanks you for it! Wow, I don't know what to say about the favorite :D I'm touched, you rock!), Darlene87, Clover2000, me myself, emmy, Catniponfire, Jawsome (As always loved reading your review thank you for putting so much work and thought into it. The only question I can answer without giving away anything is that District 2 rules itself and the Capitol rules over the rest of the districts), ripe (sorry, I'm still kind of new to fanfic and so I'm a bit unfamiliar with all its terms), Guest, Fish Flapper (awesome name btw!), and Ultanerd, I personally thank each and every one of you :) **


	4. Slave

**Yay we've reached 100 followers! Thank you so much to all those who constantly support and give this story views, reviews, follows, and favorites. Believe me, I was planning to update this story MUCH sooner but now that I've cleared off a good portion of my work and relaxed my mind a bit...**

**Warning: Rated M**

* * *

Katniss Pov

"**K**atniss."

Someone's here. Someone's calling my name.

"Katniss?"

Someone's calling for me. Someone who has a soft sweet voice. Sort of like Prim's.

"Katniss..."

I try to answer. Why do I feel as if I'm lying underneath seven feet of snow?

"KATNISS!"

I let out a shriek as somebody ripped my covers off, exposing me to broad light. In return, the other person offered up a louder shriek of their own. She desperately tried to bury me back under the covers again. We got into a bit of a scramble before my body was under the covers and my head above.

"I'm so, SO sorry, Katniss!" wailed Lavinia, spinning to face the other way. "I had no idea...so sorry...most sincere apologies...I didn't..."

I was barely listening to her. I had managed to regain my breath, my body shaking underneath the covers. My head throbbed. Last night came flooding back like a storm. A dull pain ached between my thighs. Oh God, please, no...

I tried to sit up. The pain!_ It was all a dream-it was a nightmare-it was just a nightmare-just a nightmare._ I repeated inside my head. I let out a cry as I feel a wave of agony spasm through me. No. Please no.

I fell back under the covers, my gut hammering away. Tears formed in my eyes as I see the velvet drapings for curtains, the polished mahogany ceiling of the canopy bed. I had vowed never to cry in front of an enemy, to never seem weak but none of that matters right now. The fucking monster. That motherfucking monster. That horrible, brutal, vicious, cruel, ever-so-malevolent _monster_.

"Katniss?"

I snap my head towards Lavinia and for a moment, imagine a long wooden arrow piercing through that tender neck. Like prey. I'll be the predator, and District 2 can be the prey. I'll shoot down every one of them. Every single last one of these heartless worms-

Guilt flashes through me as Lavinia sprang back, clearly alarmed by the expression that must be present in my eyes. I don't blame her too much, considering the horrible thoughts that had been going on through my head. What was wrong with me? I must have a clear mind. This wasn't Lavinia's fault. Not at all. No. It was _his_ fault. Still doesn't mean I have to want to kill her. How could I? Ever since I've been captured, Lavinia was the one who treated me with the most kindness. There's more innocence in her that all of her district put together.

I daresay she actually saw me as a human being.

But I don't feel like one anymore. The war turned me into a monster. A darkness rested within my soul, and it grew last night, not because I was tortured but because I gave in to my torturer and that was what he wanted. That made it a hundred times worse. What I suffered through last night had not only took away part of my sanity, but also erased part of my existance.

* * *

Third Person Pov

"**C**an you give me a bath?"

Katniss was embarassed to exchange these words of greeting with Lavinia, but nonetheless it was what she needed the most at this moment. Her voice betrayed no emotion. A bath alone would not suffice for the treatment she received last night, but she wanted to feel as clean possible, because at the moment, she felt_ dirty_.

Lavinia, being Lavinia, agreed immediately and turned on the tub without a second thought about Katniss's death glare, both of which Katniss felt guilty and thankful for.

The hot water sang lullabies to her aching body-particularly her muscles. Katniss scrubbed herself, hard, and then Lavinia decided to take the scrub brush away before Katniss scrubbed her skin off. Katniss hissed as the water ran harshly over her red, raw skin. Lavinia bit her lip. The poor child was suffering (His Majesty was always SO rough the first time). She decided to pour into the bath a skin-soothing foam that was normally only saved for the royalty of District 2. Well, what His Royal Majesty doesn't know won't hurt him. Right?

Katniss had to admit it felt nice having somebody take care of her, but she demanded to wash some parts of her by herself. She felt better about herself (at least a bit) as she cleaned the sticky substances between her legs.

Something greatly bugged Lavinia, and it wasn't just seeing Katniss's distress. She felt like she wanted to remember something, something very important, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't conjure it up. She kept unusually quiet as she drained the bathtub and helped Katniss into a luxurious robe of white fur.

"Only His Majesty's best for you." She was so engrossed within her thoughts that she didn't notice something passing through Katniss's eye.

Katniss was anguished. The robe was fluffy and cozy and warm and the bath may have improved her physically, but internally a fog of humiliation still hung about her, and don't even get her started on the thunderstorms of anger that crashed in her heart. How could she have so willingly gave in last night? Didn't she swore to always stand strong even at the most difficult times?

A groan rumbling from her stomach brushed her anger aside. She could not remember when she had last eaten or what she had last eaten. Her stomach was quivering and she felt nauseous and weak. If she didn't eat soon, she feared she'd fade away. But what about those poor other people? What about her sister? Was she being treated right?

"Lavinia," she croaked.

"Yes, Katniss?" Lavinia replied immediately. _If she's gonna fall, I probably can catch her,_ she eyed Katniss warily. _She doesn't look very heavy._

As much as she hated asking for favors, Katniss had no choice. "How is my sister? Do you know..."

"OH!" Lavinia clapped a hand to her forehead as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Katniss, I'm so, _so_ sorry I forgot to mention this earlier, I kinda forgot, I know, how stupid, how careless, how irrational of me. I'm really, really sorry, and I don't know any other way to break it to you so I'm just going to state it bluntly...your sister and your mother are dying."

Katniss became immobilized.

"They're starving, like the other prisoners," Lavinia continued, "They need food..." And warm blankets. And medicine. And more space. But Lavinia didn't want to mention it anymore, for she was afraid Katniss was going to die of despair right in front of her.

Katniss's voice came out hollow and desperate. "Help them. Please."

It shocked Lavinia. Katniss had lost her attitude. "I would, Katniss, you know I would, oh, but His Royal Majesty..."

"Get him!" Katniss sounded lost and urgent. "Please! Hurry! There's not a moment to lose! GET HIM! Or I will myself!"

"You can't! I will!" He'd kill them all if Katniss stepped out of this room! Without another word, Lavinia hurried off with a desperate Katniss staring after her, longing to follow.

* * *

**N**o matter how apologetic Lavinia's doe-eyes looked, Katniss was too busy staring at the six-foot-something of muscles standing next to her. A crown rested on top of its tousled blonde hair.

In his arms, King Cato carried, or rather _cradled_ a tray piled with food. Katniss could feel herself drooling at the sight of it all. Soft rolls cut into the shape of flowers, sweet peas the size of tomatoes, a pheasant embedded with sapphires, parsley mashed potatoes, a creamy midnight-blue broth, a steak-and-mutton pie, and a bottle of something sparkling clear. It was more food that she had ever seen at one time. Considering she hadn't eaten for days, it looked more like heaven.

"You are to go," the king said carelessly to Lavinia, who bowed and reluctantly backed out. The minute she left the room, his tone grew an octave colder, if that were possible. "Now," he said, turning to Katniss, "I hear the District 12 maiden is starved. Would you like something to relinquish your hunger?"

Would she ever. But Katniss's pride had swung back up along with her anger. She would take nothing from this man. She simply turned her head to the side.

"A difficult guest makes for a difficult time." He set the tray on one fancy nightstand and came closer. Katniss found herself backing up towards the bed. To her (brief) relief, he passed her and instead flipped a couple of the sheets she had slept under. He frowned at what he saw. "You got blood and cum on my mattress."

Katniss had to dig her nails into her palms to keep her temper in check. "It was a team effort." She said through gritted teeth. She blinked in surprise. It wasn't in her nature to make vulgar jokes like this.

King Cato's lips curved into a smile. "I see that was your first time. You cannot deny that you enjoyed it."

"I couldn't help it! You manipulated me! You tricked me! You forced me to do those wrong things with you!"

"And you loved every second of it."

"I will always hate you."

"Now, Katniss, is that any way to speak to your king?"

Katniss's head jerked up. King Cato had walked back to the food and hovered there as if he were guarding it. There was something about his voice. It had grown...sweeter. More coy. More manipulative. This was the first sign that something bad was about to happen, and Katniss didn't miss any of it.

"You've fought bravely. You should be proud." She shivered at his sudden syrupiness. He wasn't genuinely complimenting her with that tone of his, the tone that seemed so unlike his usual iciness. He was up to something else. "That is why," he continued, "I have brought this feast for you. I understand how hungry you must be. I brought it just for you."

She _was_ hungry. She was so hungry that she was blindly rushing towards him out of instinct, saliva dripping from her mouth. He lifted the tray above her head out of her reach.

"I'll make a deal with you, Katniss," he said, smiling softly.

Katniss's heart clenched. Here was the catch-why didn't she see it in the first place? She must've looked so stupid running up to him like that, just like he wanted, he was such a jackass, how she would love to give him a good slap or if only she had her arrows-

"You do me a little favor with those lips of yours, and in return I'll give you food. How does that sound?"

Katniss bit her lip. Did he want a kiss? If he did, why didn't he just force her in the first place? He could've if he wanted to. Not that she cared what assholes like him had going on in their heads, she thought to herself. Then she realized he didn't want a kiss. At least not just a kiss.

"NO!" Katniss screamed, louder than she meant to. "No way!"

The king's eyes glittered in malicious excitement. "But Katniss, do you not want to satisfy your agonizing hunger? Are you so foolish as to choose the most painful and long path as possible?" She tried to back away, but she was against the wall now, and he was too close to her, and she could feel his warm breath tickling her ear as he whispered, "And about your sister..."

"What about her?" She snapped, forgetting her reign of silence for a moment.

"She's seen better days, hasn't she?"

Katniss gnashed her teeth.

"Oh, no need to get all flared up, sweetheart. Some things can be changed very easily."

_How I wish, _Katniss thought as she imagined herself towering over him.

"You'll find that a man's generosity can run out very quickly if you disregard him," he said in a tone without a trace of smile.

"What generosity? The monster I stand before is brutal, callous, and heartless!" cried an indignant Katniss. That did it. His blow left a handprint on her face and her head turned sideways, pulsing from the sharpness.

"That's it. Your friends, family, sister. You can say goodbye to them forever," he growled.

"No...don't hurt them...I'm..._sorry_..."

"I'm sure you are," he said in a cold and pitiless tone.

Mockery was more than Katniss could take. "What do you want from me?! I'm _tired_ of playing your cocky mind games! _Just tell me_ what you want from me and my people!" she screamed.

"I believe I already made of clear what is it that I want. However, since you_ insist_, I can make you an impartial deal, perhaps a bit more long-lasting than our last one, because I am that generous. You be a decent little guest, _my_ decent little guest, and I will ensure the survival and safety of your family and friends as long as they follow the laws that fall under my kingdom. That goes for you as well, the law applies to everyone. How does that sound?"

Katniss very much wanted to be sure that her family and friends could survive at least without being harmed. But still..."What do you mean, _your decent little guest_?"

A twinkle gleamed in Cato's eye. "You will treat me as your king"-maybe something more-"you will obey my commands, do what I tell you to, eat what I bring you..." He gently brought a hand onto Katniss's thigh. "And wear what I tell you to wear."

Katniss flinched. Her heart pounded steadily in her ears even though her mind was anything but steady. It ran with all kinds of questions and concerns. A lump of fear arose in her stomach, right beside the hunger. Should she accept his deal, to protect her loved ones? Could she?

"I forgot to mention," added Cato, his hand tracing invisible patterns up and down Katniss's upper thigh, "Refusal of the deal means punishment for both you and your family and friends. My guards know perhaps dozens of ways you can drive a person insane. They know where to cut to make it hurt."

Katniss's mouth dried up. Her heart squeezed itself, twisting and wrenching her pride...it was worth it, she decided. No matter what she had to do, she had to do it to protect her loved ones. It was her top priority in life. And life can't live without food. She took a deep breath. She'll never be emotionally prepared for this. She'd try to not think as much.

It surprised both of them and took away much of her dignity when she tentatively wrapped her arms around him, breathing rapidly. She tried not to think about how big or toned or warm he felt against her bare skin..._I won't ever let anyone hurt Prim. If this is what I have to do...so be it. _

He wrapped his arms around her and then crashed his lips onto hers. "Knew you'd come to your senses eventually," he said when they paused for a breath. Indeed, Katniss had come to her senses. Anything was worth it if it meant having a chance of seeing her Prim again. And maybe some food. She just remembered how starved she was.

King Cato disrobed quickly. He made Katniss help him, and chuckled when her cheeks flamed a light shade of red as he ripped off her robe in one swift movement. He brought her down on her knees and grabbing her hand, made her feel him. "Do you feel this? This is how much I want you."

Katniss was feeling embarassed and ashamed and humiliated and many other emotions as her hand trembled up and down. He was big, and she had a rather small mouth, and she had never done this before, and he was _huge_-

Cato's eyes gleamed. She was going to need some help. That was okay. He'd enjoy giving it.

He grabbed her raven hair and forced himself into her mouth. She nearly choked, her mouth was so full. He leaned down and hissed into her ear, "Here's where you start sucking, darling."

Against every nerve in her body, she closed her eyes and began to suck. Warm tears rained down her cheeks. He saw them and then looked away, angry at the small flicker of emotion that had flared temporarily inside him. Why should he care for anything about her when she was nothing more than a new slave and the common dirt from District 12? Why should he care how she was feeling as long as he, royalty, was feeling good? He'd done this so many times before. And it felt so good for him, he could hardly believe she'd never done this before. She could be awkward and very clumsy, but she was pleasuring him.

He yanked on her hair, making her head bob between his thighs, controlling the speed. Katniss opened her eyes and looked up at him through her lashes. He found the wide-eyed expression on her face adorable and innocent, and that turned him on even more. "Good girl," he muttered between heavy breathing. He threw his head back, noises escaping his lips as he felt himself getting closer and closer...

Katniss was trembling; she was trying to pull away when she felt something thick and warm down her throat. She nearly choked as he pulled out, and started to spit out her mouthful when she felt strong hands grab her hair.

"Swallow," he demanded.

She swallowed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Katniss felt the area between her legs moistening all this time. She'd felt filthy plenty of times before, but this, this was a whole other level. A pair of arms scooped her up and carried her bridal-style to the bed, dumping her on the mattress. She had to resist every strong impulse warning her to escape, to fight against this. _Prim. _Katniss didn't even know where she was. How could she be sure that her baby sister was safe?

He startled her by setting the tray next to her. "Much deserved for a great performance," he said with a smile.

Katniss stared at him as if she couldn't believe he was being real, and then her eyes downcasted at the food and she'd forgotten everything else. She forgot that she didn't like eating in front of strangers (particularly enemies who are considered traitors). She forgot that there was this thing called manners. Voraciously she began gobbling everything in sight-the supple mutton pie, the moist, creamy potatoes, the greasy pheasant with the sapphires she tried not to break her teeth on (_this could feed so many people in District 12 for months_, she thought angrily). It was still lukewarm and it was all so good and so tasty and felt so hearty going down, oh she hadn't eaten this much in months, maybe even years, and it even washed away the salty tase of him...

He sat by, watching her eat with his expression of indifference and a hunger of his own. When her famined vanished, Katniss tried to eat more politely, ashamed of her previous manners and then she remembered who this was, and she started pigging down all over again.

When she had had enough, something suddenly registered in her mind.

"Hey, erm, uh, Cato, do you think you can send my family some of this..."

Cato filled up the glass with the sparkling clear liquid and put it to her lips. It tasted bitter and dry and expensive, and that was when Katniss registered this was something known as wine, also known as the everyday drink of the wealthy, and then decided not to take another sip. She tried to end it with a burp (maybe even in his face), but all she managed to do was get a brief case of hiccups instead. And then she could feel something heavy seeping across her mind, but oddly enough, it was making her feel light and a little dizzy...she lied down to cool off her head.

Cato moved the tray and quickly clambered on top of her, straddling her legs. "Time for round two. And yes, of course. It's part of our deal."

Katniss whimpered. She couldn't seem to find her voice. She wondered if she still had one. Or was that taken away from her too?

"P-P-Prim."

"What was that?"

She flinched at his sharp tone. "H-how d-do I know if I can b-believe you about my sister?"

His expression hardened into something that made the area between her legs dampen. "You will just have to my word for it, as your king."

"I-"

"Shut up and spread your legs." He didn't have time for so many changing emotions. _Women_.

"But-"

"_Now_."

She did so, knowing that he meant business. He smirked to himself; if only all his enemies had a little sister.

He kissed and touched and stroked her until they both panted heavily and she was throbbing with need. He felt himself harden all over again as moans and slobbery sucks and whimpers echoed off the walls of the room.

She screamed just as loud as last time when he took her, and a sense of pride washed over him, knowing he was her first and her second...she was clean and pure and absolutely his for claim. Just like she devoured the food, he was now devouring her. They drowned in their sensation. Katniss hadn't expected her second time to hurt this much. And even though she was being torn into two, there was a part of her that deeply wished he'd go faster, hold her tighter, be a little rougher...

She shouldn't be doing this. What the hell was he doing here when he should be saving her sister?! _This doesn't feel good. You're doing this for Prim. Don't forget that...oh my God! _

He couldn't read minds, but he had one of his own. Looking at her bouncing breasts gave him the idea. He sped up his face, making her moans louder. All sorts of noises escaped her little lips, and he couldn't deny his enjoyment. But he didn't stop when she came, in fact, he picked up his pace even more. He took her in different positions, which was very fortunate that she was so thin and flexible. The expressionless guards outside heard pounding. Backs arching, chests touching, grunts of bliss, and screams of ecstasy. It was a wonder they remained expressionless.

Her screams were music to his ears. He reveled in their intensity, a rhythm of its own. He lost himself inside her, bending her to his will.

Lavinia was bringing to him a glass of wine when she heard the noise. She stopped near the door that opened to his chambers. She heard the noises coming from inside, the moans, his heavy grunting, her ear-split screaming.

She turn around and ran away as fast as she could. The glass of wine was thrusted into one guard's hands. He blinked stupidly. And then for the first time in ages, his face formed an expression and he drained the glass empty in one gulp.

Katniss uttered one last shrill scream before collasping into the messy mattress. She didn't know which one this was or how many times she had came. She was near unconsciousness as she felt thick warmness enter her. Cato dropped down beside her and then the last thought she had before blacking out was that she hoped he'd feed her sister as quickly as possible.

After all, she had just sold her soul to the devil.

* * *

**B**reathing heavily, Lavinia threw herself inside the random room and slammed the door. A sob escaped from her lips.

"Oh!" she gasped as a figure emerged from behind one of the bookshelves. "Sorry! Didn't know you were here!"

"That's okay," it said quite kindly, smiling at her. "What brings you here?"

Lavinia looked at the rows and rows of bookshelves, the heavy books that seemed ancient and all the Gothic-style armchairs sitting by an unlit fireplace. She bit her lip.

"His Majesty's about to be in a very bad mood again," she said, sighing. She picked up a random red book and tossed it. "And I had grown rather attached to this one."

"Oh? What made this one different?"

Was it her imagination, or did the figure's voice just grow colder on her? "She was different. She had...fire. Like a fiery attitude that I've never seen before. I think she would dare to challenge our king." She chuckled! Oh, how ridiculous. Who could ever challenge her beloved king?

There was a pregnant pause. And then the figure said, "This captive...she is from District 12, yes?"

"Yes, indeed. We got a new shipment of prisoners just yesterday."

"Oh, I see. Are they imprisoned?"

"Yes. Except for the one woman we're talking about, dark hair, dark eyes, hmm, what was her name, Katrina...no...Kathleen...Katniss. Oh yeah, it was Katniss! Yep, yep. That's her. Fiesty and fiery. But really nice. I like talking to her. She actually knows what she's talking about, unlike many of the girls I talk to, oh my, you wouldn't believe how ditzy they are, or they appear to be, of course they think it attracts His Majesty...hello? You still there?"

In the dim light, Lavinia didn't see the figure's face turn sickly white. "She wasn't-she didn't-where is she now-"

"Oh, she was taken to His Majesty's chambers," Lavinia instinctively dusted a few books, "At first, we were all like oh my God, His Majesty's gone out of his mind, taking a girl from District 12. Of course, _I_ trusted His Majesty's judgement. I knew he had good taste all along, and of course I was right: Katniss is really okay. Hey, are you even listening to me?!"

"What-oh, yes, sorry. I'm listening."

"Right, but I forgot what I was saying, so I'll just say something else instead. I'm kind of upset that Katniss...I mean, she was...you know, she...oh, I just can't believe she's going to move on!"

"What do you mean _move on_?"

"Well, you see, after His Majesty...spends some time, er, getting to meet girls...hey, wait a minute, you've worked here awhile, you're a part of the servants, how come you don't know?"

"Not everyone can have the honor of being as devoted as you are to His Majesty, Miss."

"Fair enough," Lavinia said with a giggle. "But," her tone suddenly turned serious, "You see, after His Majesty meets girls, it usually ends up with him in a bad temper and the girl...well, let's just say that they end up with some sort of unfortunate...accident."

The figure was at a loss for words.

"They're all ditzy, klutzy, foolish girls who throw themselves at His Majesty," Lavinia added quickly, but she sounded unsure herself, "They know the consequences. If His Majesty becomes angry, they have given him reason to be."

"_Katniss_-"

Lavinia couldn't help noticing it said Katniss's name like an old man crying out for his lover. "Yeah, well, he's met Katniss already...oh, the poor thing! I wish there was something I could do to help! I wish it didn't have to be this way, I want to-"

The doors suddenly burst open, startling both of them.

"His Royal Majesty requests to see Maid Lavinia immediately!" announced the Peacekeeper.

"As he wishes," Lavinia bowed apologetically and strolled out with a sad look on her face.

The figure waited for the doors to close. Then he got out from within his robes his hidden cloak. He hurried to the fireplace, and rested his palm upon one of the blocks of stone making up the nearby wall. A section of the wall rumbled as it slid open to reveal a dimly lit passageway. Once inside, he rested his palm upon another brick, and then the wall slid back into place.

Inside the passageway, the footsteps of Peeta Mellark were fueled by his determination to rescue somebody named Katniss before it was too late. Nobody in the castle of District 2 heard his panting in the cold air or the anxiety thudding away his heart.

* * *

**Thank you my friends, if you support this story (by reviewing/reading) you're also supporting my writing and I really appreciate that :) Let me know if you like the Cato in Freedom of a Mockingjay (which will be updated soon) or if you like this Cato better! What do you think of Lavinia (so far)? What is Peeta up to? How come he is not a prisoner? Will Prim, Mrs. Everdeen, and Gale make it? Will King Cato keep his end of the deal? Coming up next chapter.**

**You're all super awesome, and big thank yous to this patient bunch: Lonespark088, Julie-Anna12, CatnipGirlonfire, dnnxjs, , Emm875love, Natalie M.R, Waterfreak201346, Inescapable void (COOL name, btw), thepinkmartini, dragonflame, Theflipside, rayleen14, dhjd, hdbzkw, youcan'tbandagethedamage, ms. BL, heyomyfellowreaders101, fishflapper, abigail25, guest, vampirebooklover09, and to those who have stuck by me all this time...**


	5. Master

**Hello, the lack of update for some of my favorite Catoniss stories inspired me to continue mine. Besides, it's been about two weeks, right?**

**The time period is more Medieval except they have baths and some basic modern luxuries like the bath tub...does that make sense? No computers, TV's, phones, or planes. **

* * *

Third Person Pov

_So this is what heaven tastes like._

**P**rim couldn't believe her eyes when the Peacekeeper unlocked the doors for a second to shove the tray into her hands. She couldn't believe it was real, all this food and utensils and medicine and pile of blankets. It certainly smelled real; the food smelled hot and good and the other necessities new and clean. She hadn't smelled anything clean in months.

The first blanket and bite were of course given to her mother. Prim was a little surprised that a blanket in District 2 had rose print, but her mother looked so comfortable wrapped in it that it made Prim's heart melt. It reminded her of the days when her father was still alive, when her mother stilled cared about being pretty and being there for her and Katniss.

Why? She wondered. Why would the king send _her _these luxuries? He didn't seem like the merciful type in his throne room, when she called for Katniss...

Prim dropped the sandwich she was holding. _Katniss_. Of course. It had to be her that sent all this to them. She felt a wave of joy overcome her. That meant Katniss was still alive! But how? Prim wondered. How did Katniss manage to send them all this? And where was she? Is she okay? And ~ and what exactly did she have to do to send them these luxuries?

She shared the food and blankets with the other prisoners (especially the ones with children). There wasn't enough to go around, so she decided to pick those who looked like they most needed help. She tried not to think too much about those left to hang on by themselves, the guilt would devour her alive.

She fed her mother big gulps of the syrup-like medicine and also passed it around to the children, whose thin, bony frames shook as they took it. And she spooned dollops of it into her own mouth, trying to ignore the mealy bittersweet taste. She wouldn't mind giving everything to those left behind, but she knew that probably wasn't Katniss's intention. Try as she might, she couldn't enjoy the food as much as she wanted to, even though she'd almost forgotten what food tasted like.

All throughout the night and day, Prim checked on her mother. She fed her medicine in small spoonfuls and bits of food in little chunks. By the time Prim felt her mother's forehead again, it was much cooler than before.

* * *

"This is a courtesy of His Majesty," barked the Peacekeeper, dumping the contents of the tray into the lap of Gale Hawthorne.

**H**e waited till she was gone, craning his neck just to make sure, before examining the items in his lap. A rough woolen blanket, a squashy bundle of sandwiches (some kind of meat paste), and a tin of stale-smelling water. Starved and thirsty as he was, he would have nothing from that tyranny of 2. He tossed the sandwiches over his shoulder, not bothering to see where they landed.

There was a mad scramble. Heads, hands, even feet scrambled for the couple of unwanted morsels. Those who had gotten just a scrap scurried to find a quiet corner to enjoy their prize in.

Gale didn't turn around, but he heard the racket. He tightened his grip on the blanket and tin can, making the water slosh inside.

The woman across the cell uttered a shriek as her swollen belly budged. Gale dug his nails into his fists as he watched a Peacekeeper storm inside. He turned his head away. He couldn't bear to watch.

To his surprise, he heard no screams. He glanced back. The woman laid on the floor on an old but warm-looking sheet, an identical one covering her trembling body. The Peacekeeper was back outside, the prison doors shut, a particuarly sour look on his bulldog-ish face.

Gale was sure he had wanted to beat her, but something had stopped him. But_ what_?

_Katniss, you better have cleaner water than I do._

* * *

**P**eeta Mellark was exhausted. The deep wool pockets of his cloak didn't protect his hands from the numbing chill that rattled through the passageways of the District 2 castle. It was lucky that the hideout wasn't far from 2. He felt as if he was walking in a long, narrow tomb, with air that was running out second by second.

He emerged into a small hallway from the sliding wall, glad to leave the cold and damp world of District 2 behind at last. The hallway led down further, but at least it had a warmness radiating through it. He didn't have to walk very far before he reached the small door at the end.

He took huge gulps of air once he was outside. The cool air filled his lungs like a shower of refreshing cold water being poured into an empty mug, refilling his emptiness with purpose. He could hold his breathe for as long as he want or take as many gulps of air he wanted to without anybody telling him hush. He'd missed having freedom like this.

He hurried along, not wanting to waste anymore time. The trees and brambly bushes and broken stone paths seemed to part their way for him. Moonlight danced on his path, and for once he could allow himself to feel a shred of safety. This, although far from home, was the closest thing he had right now. Before long, rows of old huts came into sight, each with a bell hanging over its door. It took him awhile, but eventually he found the only door with the silver bell instead of copper. He slipped inside silently.

Dozens of heads turned towards him. The room expressed their relief as he slipped off his cloak, revealing the gold hair and broad face they knew and loved so well.

"Oh, you're_ back_!"

"Welcome back, sir, _welcome back_!"

"_Peeta_!"

They beamed and smiled at him with their ragged, worn faces. Peeta beamed and smiled back, but he didn't waste a second making his way to the far corner of the room-which in this case was not very far, and not very roomy. A man, woman, and girl sat on a worn rug, their faces illuminated by the glow of candles.

He got on one knee before them. "Your Majesty."

"Peeta," the man said kindly, "Welcome back."

"We're so glad you're back," added the queen. The princess inclined her head, smiling.

Peeta smiled. "Thank you, Your Highnesses. As am I."

"You must have something to eat and drink," said the queen, "What a journey you must have had. For once, feast upon our rations without selflessness - you have greatly earned it."

Peeta bowed. "Although your kindness runs further than I can ever go, I must address the results of my duty with His Majesty first and foremost."

"Thank you, my dear lad. Tell me, what becomes of our people?" King Undersee gravely asked.

"I wish I could spare you the truth," grimaced Peeta, "But I am afraid every single one of us who's not in here has been captured and sent to the dungeons of 2."

King Undersee's grey-blue eyes grew, rather horrorstruck. "Every single one of us who is not in here - does that include - "

"I'm afraid it does," whispered Peeta.

"This is a great tragedy," proposed the king. "Katniss Everdeen was one of our finest warriors, despite her age. How shall our people fare without her courage?"

"It gets even worse," said Peeta, on the verge of tears, "With my pose as a servant, Sire, I have found out that Katniss Everdeen is being tortured and used as a pawn - by the tyrant king of District 2 himself!"

"Lad, we musn't call kings 'tyants', matter not how they rule. Each has his own kingdom and his own law. They have the power because they have, in one way or another, earned the title. Now," King Undersee held up a hand, silencing Peeta's stammers, "I do believe, however, that Katniss is not in any immediate danger. She may have had to answer to the monarch of 2 himself, but since you say she is being used, he will not good riddance of her anytime soon."

"But she's being tortured - "

"She is. But she is not about to see the face of death just yet. If battle all these years with 2 has taught me anything, it is that their kings take their time with pawns - he will use her as means to break the spirits of our people, and then dispose of her with them."

"But we have to save her! We must rescue her before - "

"We shall. It is a devestation that she is being subjected to torture - but we must not try and bring about a rescue soon. Capture means certain death - and immediate this time, for all our people. Perhaps he wishes that we ambush quite soon - and get captured in the process. It may be his trap. Our only chance is to heal a bit, the war has taken its toll, and there are so few of us left from 12, those who are free, forced to hide in the outskirts of a nearby district for our freedom." They stole a glance at General Haymitch Abernathy, the snoring general passed out in another corner.

"Only when our wounds are less fresh, our flesh less bloody, our hearts fuller, can we attempt to rescue of our people from prison. And only with the help of our people - District 12 united as one - can we have any hope of defeating 2."

"But what about Katniss - what if we're too late - "

We will rescue Katniss in time. Do not worry, lad. The people of 12 may altogether be a small group, but we are strong, fierce survivors, and we do not give up. I believe the tides will turn in our favor if we do not give up strength, determination, courage, and hope."

"Beg pardon, Your Majesty, but Katniss is many of our people's hope. If she goes down - "

"Ah, but she won't, Peeta."

"She won't? Forgive me, Majesty, but what makes you absolutely certain, as I'm quite sure you are?"

"I am afraid I am not absolutely certain." The king's eyes were piercing into Peeta's, blue on blue. "It is up to you to determine Katniss Everdeen's fate. As long as you remain your noble and dangerous spywork for us, as you have been doing, you will be able to protect our hope and courage."

"But I - "

"As long as we are informed of 2's current events, as long as we have someone who is close to them, they can learn secrets. As long as we have that, we have hope of rescuing our people and claiming back what is rightfully ours."

"But I'm just to them a servant - "

"And a servant is all you shall be to them. No one will pay much heed, no one will suspect anything of a servant. I know I am asking a very high sacrifice of you, but I know not of any other of us who has your strength and ability. I would go myself, but they would recognize me firsthand..."

Peeta was silent. He thought about his mother and father and two brothers, who had all been captured. He thought about Katniss Everdeen and her family, and even that Gale Hawthorne who always hung around her back in 12. He thought about all these people here, each one with family and friends, torn apart by this imprisonment.

He swallowed. "I understand, Sire. And I will do my best to reunite our people with our kingdom."

The king's voice was soft when he spoke. "Go now, and carry on your noble work. Learn and listen. Listen and learn. Protect our people. Save our kingdom." His voice was almost a whisper now. "We appreciate all you do for us, Peeta Mellark. And on that beautiful day when we are finally free, you will become Sir Peeta Mellark, Knight, Mockingjay Harmony, First Class."

* * *

**I**f she looked hard enough, Katniss could see patterns in the ceiling. They were so abstract, they reminded her of clouds floating in the neverending blue sky that she ached to see, even if it were to be her last time. Everyday stretched like a year in this...predicament of hers. She longed to see her family again, to be back in the meadows of her district.

The door opened, and Katniss flinched, sure it was the king coming for her again. Of course, not that she minded as much as before, he could make her feel like she'd never felt before - wait, what in hell was she thinking? There was no way she liked what he did to her! She closed her eyes, waiting for the mattress to sink down beside her, a pair of large hands to grab her...

"Just here to change the bedsheets," said a familiar, feminine voice, "Excuse me - "

Katniss felt something land next to her on the mattress, but it didn't seem very happy. She opened her eyes, to see a pile of garments in all shapes and colors. That was not the first thing to spring to her mind, though.

"Lavinia, how is my sister?" Katniss croaked raspily. Worry clearly sparked in her eyes.

Lavinia beamed. "Good, good! She and your mother and friends have been fed. My, the food was gone_ immediately_. That sister of yours really knows how to take care of your mother, I say. They're gaining weight and looking healthier than before."

Katniss could feel her chest sink in relief. So the monster had kept his promise. Maybe he wasn't such a monster after all. She let her gaze rest on the clothes.

"Brought you some clothes - by the order of His Majesty -"

Upon closer look, the clothes Lavinia had brought Katniss were not clothes - they were lingerie in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors.

"I'm sorry, Miss Katniss," Lavinia said softly when she saw Katniss's expression, "His Royal Majesty picked them out himself - for you."

"I'm sure he did." Katniss absentmindedly traced the pattern on a soft-green silk. It was trimmed with lace and ribbons of yellow satin. _Monster_, she thought.

"Look, Katniss." Lavinia dropped down so she was on her knees, not an unusual position for her. "I am so sorry about everything that's happened here, that's happened to you. You've - you've been through a lot, and I wish His Majesty could be less harsher with you. He is not a bad man, really. It's just he has a lot going on, and sometimes he needs to take out his anger - "

"By doing what, _killing everybody_? _Murdering the innocent_? _Imprisoning their families_?!" Katnis cried angrily. "_Raping me_?!"

Lavinia gasped, her doe-like eyes widening. "You don't mean that, Katniss! I'm sure he would never - "

"Oh, but he _did_, Lavinia. He RAPED me."

"But - but isn't rape illegal? Why would His Royal Majesty do something against his own laws? That doesn't make sense, so I don't understand - "

"What don't you understand, Lavinia?" said a new voice.

King Cato stood there, dressed in dark blue robes and leather pants that went nicely together with his bulky muscles. He was not wearing his crown, and he carried a tray of something in his arms.

"Your Majesty," Lavinia crawled over to him on her knees, bowed, and kissed his feet. "Good day!"

"I repeat, Lavinia, what don't you understand?"

"Katniss, Your Majesty," Lavinia replied quickly, "I don't see why she doesn't get along with you. Personally, if I were her I would - "

"Ah, but that is not related to any of your business, is it?" said Cato coldly. "Your only orders were to bring her clothing and change the bedsheets. Do so immediately!"

Katniss stood up so Lavinia, who had a very apologetic look on her face, could change the bedsheets. She watched as the maid peeled off the stained sheets and replaced them with fresh ones. Something sickened in her stomach as Lavinia sprinkled rose petals over the fresh bedsheets.

She turned to Katniss and was about to say something, when King Cato said, "Thank you, your job here is done. Go now."

Lavinia tried to ignore her guilty feelings when she read Katniss's _don't leave me alone with him_ expression on her face. On the other side of the door, she tried to think of ways she could make Katniss feel better.

Katniss didn't feel too good at the moment. He was back again. He probably wanted to do something even more vicious this time. She brought her knees to her chest, huddling on the floor. She tried to mentally prepare herself for whatever was coming.

"Good morning, my sweet."

She failed.

"W-w-what do you want this time?"

His throat rumbled when he laughed. "Is that any way to greet your king? Looks like I'm going to have to teach you some manners as well, as it seems your own mother never taught you any."

His words gave her a sudden, strong impulse to see her family again. She would give anything...

"What - what are you going to do with me? T-today?"

"How cute, you can't wait either." He flashed his white teeth at her and came over and sat down on his bed, setting the tray on his lap. "I want you to eat. And put on one of the...garments brought to you. Do you like the pastel colors? I picked most of them out myself."

She decided to put on the first one she grabbed onto, which was the pale-green silk. She slipped it over herself in her corner, looking away so she wouldn't see him looking at her. It was tight in all the right places and hugged her every curve. After she put it on, she came over and sat next to him. She reached for the spoon.

"Uh uh uh." He swatted her hand away. "Open your mouth."

Oh. He wanted _that_. Leaning back on the pile of pillows so she wouldn't be so uncomfortable, Katniss slowly parted her lips. The spoon, guided by his hand, made its way into her mouth. A sweet, creamy soup, of nectar and honey milk. She swallowed and then opened her mouth for more.

When the bowl was half empty, the king met her eyes with a smirk. "I am so glad you like this, my sweet. I had it specially prepared just for you."

* * *

A terrible thought registered in Katniss's mind as she registered those words. Her eyes grew wide. Her hands clutched at her sides. "You - you _poisoned_ me." She grabbed her stomach and waited for the pain to begin.

He let out a deep, throaty chuckle. "Now, Katniss, why would I do that?"

Katniss didn't answer him. She felt incredibly stupid that she had not an answer.

"I don't want you dead," he said softly, and his fingers traced a pattern on her face, where he planted a kiss a second later. "Your kind has a lot more to you when you're alive."

"My - my kind?"

"Are you afraid, Katniss?"

Katniss felt her heart pounding faster. Her brain couldn't process an answer. She wanted to say no, but even her mind couldn't make her blurt out a yes.

"You should be."

She stumbled and felt like she was being steered - he was suddenly somehow on top of her, tray and bowl and spoon dropped and forgotten. She was pinned down underneath him.

He took his time peeling the silk lingerie off her. He snapped her bra from behind so suddenly that she thought it'd fallen off, until he slowly and sensually removed it from her shoulders. Even though he had seen her body before, he liked what he saw. Even though he had seen her body before, Katniss felt so vulnerable, so helpless, and so bare when he looked down at her. She could not bring herself to meet his eyes. (This was a mistake that she would pay dearly for.)

He attacked her chest directly - no neck or ear kisses this time. Placing numerous light kisses on her breasts, he rubbed his arousal against her (discarded of his clothing). The electricty was so strong it made her pulse with need. She tried to meet his center with hers, but he pulled away. _He was in total control. (_And the fuck was she doing?)

He caressed her stomach, taking his sweet time. She gasped and breathed, running her small fingers through his thick, tousled hair. He traced one hand down her leg and then up to her thigh. He caressed the outside before making his way in. A tickling sensation told her he was at her sacred place again. She whimpered as he stuck two fingers inside her, stroking, rubbing, and dancing. Sensations of dizziness claimed her as her lips bucked against his hand - all of their own accord, she told herself.

She panted hotly as he replaced his fingers with his mouth. She bit down on her lip to refrain from moaning or whimpering. She drew blood, which she quickly licked away.

"Yeah, you like that, 12?" His voice was so low and so husky that it was making her heart beat faster, her blood flow faster, her nerves throb heavier.

"Answer me," he commanded as he dived back between her legs again. His mouth worked magic - she could feel herself melting into a puddle...

She nodded, hands groping blindly at his chest. She was flushed and positively vibrating with need - there was no room for dignity in the world of fire and passion. She wanted this to be over with as soon as possible. But most of all, she wanted him to be in a good mood when she asked him. So she tried her best to submit to him.

He took her with her legs in the air.

It was more like pounded into her. She felt thunder and fire between her legs, all at once. She forced herself not to scream. Her nails dug into his buttery back (he hissed when she'd scratched a scar, but she didn't notice). She could feel something inside her collapse as she bathed in the pleasure, a pleasure she was sure no kind man could ever afford. She tried not to think about it, less it shattered her even more. After a short while, he quickened his pace and slid in deeper. She lost her mind, but she didn't squirm.

It did not come to her until they both laid there panting and soaking up the feeling of being with each other. Katniss feels sickened for the butterflies that flutter in her stomach and for the sense of rationality that overcame her. A block of nervousness formed in her stomach for thinking what she is about to ask, to do next. But it is nothing compared to the shame.

Cato laid there feeling content, but he possessed the knowledge that he would soon be hungry for more. He smiled at his little prize, no, his little slave. He was always the ruler, and he would always be the ruler of everything he saw, whoever he wanted. People belonged to him. He didn't like to see her shriveled and withered, though. He liked a fresh, blooming rose.

"I want to see them." She didn't know what made her blurt out like that, but she did, and there was no backing it back. If she was going to suffer to keep her family safe, she at least should get to see them. She didn't know how to beat around the bush, as they say, and even if she did she wasn't the type to anyways. He turned to her, surprised by her bluntness as much as she.

"Pardon?" Although his tone is neutral, his eyes are cold and narrowed.

"I want to see them - my sister, my mother. My friend." _I'd have friend**s** if Princess Madge survived. But I don't know if she did. _

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to prepare herself for his 'no'. She knew she'd ruined it, but she didn't want to be told. One word could break her fragile world, or what was left of it. She turned her body away from him.

"Very well, then."

She was so surprised, she immediately whirled back around to face him. What? What did he say? Did she imagine him to say yes? Is he messing with her again?

"Don't look at me like that," he said with a half-smile in his voice, stretching his muscular arms. "It's very well if you'd like to see them."

She felt happiness and hope burst in her at once. This was it, she really could, she really could see Prim and her mother and Gale again!

"But there's a catch."

* * *

** Isn't there always? **

**I really like the next chapter because it comes with a big reveal and things I think you'll like. If everybody who reads leaves a review, I'll update quicker, say less than the usual time. I've already got a part of the next chapter written down, it'll be such a turn. Why it usually takes me awhile is that it takes awhile for a chapter to reach a certain number of reviews, so the more reviews, the less waiting time, yay :)**

**I appreciate any review from all, and adore reading them all. Thanks so much for everything you guys have given me :) I'd also appreciate any constructive critcism if you have it, or small suggestions you might have (you can pm me), or pieces of writing advice. Love hearing from you all :) **

_**To my amazing reviewers, whom glow brighter than all the stars in the velvet night skies of District 2: **_

_**thepinkmartini- You always review every chapter, and if my memory serves me correctly you've been there in the very beginning. Thank you so much for all you do, I love reading every single one of your reviews :) And thank you for always reading the AN's, too**_

_**Heyomyfellowreaders- I admit it - I kind of lol'd when you said Cato reminded you of Henry Tudor. I hope/think that'll change as the story goes on. Thanks for always dropping by with a nice review, always love reading them**_

_**Catnipgirlonfire- Thanks for always reviewing :) I hope it'll get even better with every update because that's what you deserve, thanks so much**_

_** - Thanks for your review! I must admit I'm more supportive of Cato and Katniss than Peeta and Katniss, though ;)**_

_**The Giggling Gummy Bear- Thanks so much! I absolutely love your name, made me giggle :) **_

_**FishFlapper- I'm glad we sorted out your confusion :) That seemed like months ago! Anyways, I updated. Thanks for reviewing!**_

_**rayleen14- Yes, Peeta is here! But now Peeta's back in 2! Thanks for reviewing :)**_

_**TwoLeftFeet- (I love your name, I have two left feet lol :) When I read the first four words of your review, I braced myself for what was coming next - but it never did come. Thank you for the amazing review :) I hope you enjoyed the update**_

_**dragonflame- No, never would I forget about the ultimate Hunger Games couple! Yup, Cato's a sweetheart in the other story compared to this one but I wonder if our opinions about him will change as the story goes on. Thanks for always reviewing, you are awesome :)**_

_**Youcan'tbandagethedamage- I LOL'd so hard when I read your comment. Yup, it definitely gonna go down! I think you really might be interested in what's coming up next, I know I'm excited :) Thanks for reviewing!**_

**_sundragons- Thank you for taking the time to read and discuss with me. You've helped a lot in my confidence of the story._ _And thank you for the reviews. I think once you've learned Cato's backstory, your opinion of him might change._**

**_Inescapablevoid- I think your name is just epic. Heh, only 3 people on this site have used my pen name in a pun, much to my surprise. Thanks so much, I really loved your review! Cato heard Prim scream Katniss's name back in his throne room, but he had no way to be sure that it was her name at the time...and he just wanted to play with her sanity. I answered your first question back up there, hopefully it made some sense :) and thanks once again!_**

**_Absolutely Adorkable- Once again, I am enraptured by the creativity of names of people on this site :) Thank you so much for just dropping by and reviewing! _**

**_Blackdove085- Thanks for sticking by me all this time and for just writing up some of the best stories in the Catoniss section. I look to your stories for inspiration whenever I need it because they inspire me a lot :) BrieflySweet thanks you for the love and wishes, and accepts them, and sends you her love and wishes back as well. Always love your reviews because you say so much in so little, it's always great to see you!_**

**_hookedonpeeta- Thanks for reviewing :) Don't fall off the edge of your seat, stand up like a boss lol had no idea where that came from, sorry. But thanks for the review and I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! :)_**

**_Abigail25- Aww thanks SO much :) Here is the next chapter, all leading up to the next chapter! Thanks for reviewing!_**


	6. Doll

**I am ENTHRALLED by the number of reviews the last chapter got! You guys bumped up from 89 all the way to 120! You're all BEYOND amazing, love you all followers, favorites, reviewers...**

**I guess I haven't been mentioning it often lately, so I'll mention it now: This is not a happy-go-lucky story, as you can probably tell. **

**I was going to update this on Sunday, but real life is so aggrivating and sometimes takes away a huge chunk of my daily energy. **

**Thank you's are placed at the bottom. Now settle in.**

* * *

Third Person Pov

**E**ven though his cold voice cut into her joy, it still remained with her, less than before but it was there nonetheless. There was always a catch. Of course. Why hadn't she seen that coming?

She was scared, but she waited for him to speak once more. His words 'very well' thundered in her ears. _Prim..._

"Ever since the first time we've made love, you've become different," he said (she thought, _How dare he called it making love?!)_. "More cold. More impassive each time. Like you're completely devoid of any emotion."

He smiled to himself, noticing how she cringed when he said "made love." He didn't love her. He just enjoyed her reaction when he said it.

_I think that's what you are, devoid of the good emotions. _But try as she might, she couldn't dub him completely heartless, if he was going to let her see her family. And he did keep his promise when she had expected him to break it. He could've broken it so easily, and she'd never have known (well, on second thought, maybe she'd have found out from Lavinia). But he kept his word like her father always did, and Katniss admired her father to no end.

"So from now on, I want you to be more...interactive. Show me some affection."

Katniss couldn't control herself this time. "You want me to show you _affection_? After all you've done to me?!" she cried indignantly. _Monster Man!_

He ran a hand through his hair, his patience dangling by a thread. "I do not mean feel affectionate towards me - I meant you are to show me emotion when we are making love . "

_ There's those awful lies again_, she thought. He wanted her to _what_? For a moment, his words made no sense, and they went in one ear and out the other.

"I thought you wanted me not to put up fights with you?" she spat at him. Or tried to. It came out a wheeze. She clutched her throat. Was she sick? Sickness was serious back in District 12.

"I didn't say for you not to put up fights with me, I want you to obey my orders. I don't care if you cry or scream or thrash or put up a fight - hell, that's sometimes hot. Just don't fucking lie there lifelessly when I pound the fuck out of you next time."

So there would be a next time, and many more next times. But she was willing to do anything as long as she could see her family again. So they had a deal (Katniss extended out her hand to shake but immediately drew it back, cheeks smoldering after Cato said, "I don't need to shake hands to make a deal. You're from District 12").

"Oh, and I forgot to mention," he said as he threw his cloak over his shoulder, "You may see them, but you may not speak or interact with them. You will see them, but they will not get to see you."

She felt a jolt of anger. Who didi he think he was?! However, just as quickly as it came, it'd disappeared. She nodded. Seeing them and not talking would be better than not seeing them at all.

Or at least she thought.

* * *

**T**he glass was cold against the tip of her nose. So cold, in fact, that it seemed to be wet. Her breath fogged up the glass. She quickly wiped it away, not wanting to miss out even a second of them.

They're down there, in that small dim room called the library, all three of them, huddling together, not daring to wander too far from each other, while she's up here, forced to watch through a small window with unbreakable glass. Katniss's heart ached when she saw their lips moving - she wished she could hear what they were saying. She wished they could hear her, see her. She wanted to run down to them and to embrace them, hug them, touch them, never let them go.

There's Gale, who's lost a lot of weight but still looking like her best friend, pacing around the room, determined expression set on his scowling features. _He wants to protect Prim and Mother,_ Katniss thought to herself with longing.

There's her sweet Prim, oh what she wouldn't do to give her Prim a hug and wrap her arms around her like Prim is doing with their mother. Her mother is wrapped within a blanket...she must've been sick, but she looked healthier than she'd ever been in 12. Prim had taken good care of her. Her sweet little duck... _Everything I've gone through is worth it for this moment._

And Gale! Gale, how was he doing? How noble of him to protect her family, even though that's what they'd always done. His familiar scowl reminded her even more of the home she was deprived of. Home, laid among ruins...

A pit of anger bubbled up inside her. She banged against the glass. If only one of them would have the sense to glance up. Please, glance up! Please!

They didn't even turn around. Honestly, she hadn't known what she had been expecting when she did that. It was upon the impulse of dismay, and she would've been glad if the glass had shattered and she'd fallen two stories down below, inside and with them.

But they didn't hear her. Instead, the two guards who'd escorted her here did, and upon hearing her, they each grabbed one of her arms and began dragging her back.

"WAIT! PRIM! GALE! M-MOTHER! WAIT! NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

"You shouldn't have banged our glass, your filthy rat," spat the burly one, "His Majesty's gonna have it with you."

She tried to kick them, kneel them, wiggle away. It was no use. Their grips were firm and their faces set.

And so she was forced to watch the only ones from home disappear in her sight...once again. This time, they didn't even know that she had been there. But perhaps that was better. She would be the only one getting hurt.

She didn't think of this at the moment, but when she looked back, the simple, short moment of seeing them was probably worth it.

* * *

**Katniss Pov**

**I** don't know how much time passed - days, weeks, even perhaps months. It was a constant struggle.

I should be gaining a lot of weight. People brought me large amounts of food-it was much more than I'd ever had, and there seemed to be millions of different kinds and it was all delicious and I'd eat because I don't know when I'll see food again (even though there's plenty here and it's delivered daily, old instinct remained with me, probably one of the only things that remained with me). I'm also in bed most of the time, there's nothing else I can really do locked up in his chambers. There are plenty of nice things to look at, but looking only gets one so far. I've stared down most of the paintings, imagined the artists who'd painted them, tried to see into their realities. The one painting I avoided was of him - how contemptous of him to execute an artist because he didn't like their portraits of him.

That was what I did in the day. In the nights, I wept. Some nights he was especially rough because he'd come in angry and drunk, and I'd be in for the one of the roughest nights of my life. He never whipped me, but his bare hands made just as good beatings.

Sometimes it's agonizing to the point where I'm digging my nails into his buttery back as hard as I can. And sometimes I'd feel a scar or two along his smooth skin. I wondered where they came from. I wondered who'd dare inflict them upon him. (And realized he probably gained them in battle. Of course. 2 is infamous for their "natural born" leaders and well-trained kings, generals, and soldiers. Careers, the other kingdoms called them, along with 1 and 4. They fought amongst themselves when it came down to it, but usually they teamed up together to wipe out the rest of us.)

Sometimes in the midst of pain, in the darkest hours of the night, when I have nothing else to cling onto, I cling onto him. Even though he is the cause behind my pain, I need something warm and real and alive to sooth my aching soul, in which the flame of life flickers out every so often.

And sometimes, when he went out and left me trapped in the dark room alone, when I felt especially depressed or melancholy, I sang childhood lullabies to lure myself to sleep. They washed over me like a waterfall and came back to me easily in my yearning for the long-gone past with silent tears dripping my eyes:

_There is a meadow filled with light_

_I sometimes go there in my dreams_

_It's far away but that's okay _

_There is a meadow filled with light_

_The roses there are soft and sweet_

_The night is never cold and bare_

_Nobody ever starves to death_

_Nobody likes to hurt me there_

_There is a meadow filled with light_

_I sing myself to sleep_

_And then I'm off at last_

_I know a place where no one cries_

_I know a place where no one dies_

_Everybody there is safe and warm_

_Here in a meadow filled with light _

But sometimes - just sometimes - it takes me away, if only for awhile. Away to a world with no wars, no suffering, no death. A world where it only consisted of man and woman and something beautiful between them. I loathed myself for thinking this way, and after that one time, I didn't allow it. Maybe if I did, I wouldn't have been in so much misery.

I cried. I sang. I schemed. I kicked. I wondered.

"Why? Why did you pick me?"

It came out barely a whisper, but it's something I've always wanted to ask him since that day. Out of thousands of girls he could've tortured - why me? I haven't got an outstanding personality or an outstanding physical appeal, I've always been told. So why did he pick me? Because I slapped him? Is that it?

I was expecting him to kill me. I was in my mind praying for a quick death. Never in my life would I have expected this.

I've never kissed anybody before and if someone made me to sleep with them, I would've pointed my arrow at them. But it's not like anybody ever showed that much interest. To speak more harshly, most of us in my kingdom just barely scraped by. If there was one thing a guy desired more than a speckling of food, it was to get into a girl's pants before he and she both perished. I was a hunteress. Nobody would've ever wanted to share a short, starved life with me, even though I ate better than most in 12. The only thing I've ever really been concerned about is putting food on the table, raising my sister, and protecting my kingdom.

That must why I'm passionately curious about the king's interest in me. If I were to speak no lie, I do think he has a handsome face and a nice body (okay, the nicest I've ever seen). He seems to be well-liked in 2 (at least from what I've seen with Lavinia). I could go out on a limb and add that if he weren't such a monster on the inside, I would find him quite attractive. But there is a difference between being attractive on the inside and looking nice on the outside. Even so, I don't believe a man like him would pay any heed to me back in 12. Not that it particularly matters much to me.

"I've never been considered particularly, well, beautiful," I said pathetically to him one night. Oh, Prim, if you could listen to me now! Listen to how weak I sound!

"I know," he replied. "I've seen better, but there is something about you. Your face may look ordinary at first sight, but upon closer look, ordinary turns extrodinary. You have this fire in your eyes."

And so my nickname - Fire Girl - was born. The foolish, young woman part of me felt a warm flattery in my chest - he thought I was pretty. I could feel myself flushing whenever his cold blue eyes were on me - like they were gazing right through me, and it made me insecure. Where is the warrior within me? What happened to the girl who built all her walls? I'm not a Fire Girl if my flame is extinguishing. I told myself that because I came from gray, dreary District 12, I'm not used to seeing sinewy golden muscles with chiseled faces. That this was my rampaging hormones kicking in - I wonder how much of him is even real? The build, the muscles? I told myself the only reason fluid came between my legs and I screamed his name in the nights was only because he was a man most women would drool over, testosterone at its finest, a beautiful face with something ugly underneath it.

I was known as a survivor, a warrior back in my district, but ultimately, even I know that I've got my weaknesses. After all these hard years, I'm reminded that on the inside, I'm just a girl of not even twenty. And sometimes, I can't do things alone.

"I assumed you would be the hardest to break," his breath warmed my ear, "And I take pride in challenges."

So that was his plan - devour the strongest. If the strongest falls, so will the others. I don't know if I'm the strongest, but I can begrudingly admit I am not my rightful self.

I sometimes am mesmorized as he explores my body. It left me feeling dirty and sinful, and then I'm reminded one of those toothpick, skeletal girls from the Seam in District 12, whose eyes are as empty as their bellies, and the only escape from death was to put a price on themselves - their body, for a small pile of coins or a bite to feed their family or a morsel for themselves. Shame wells in me as I remember how I was almost one of them - almost.

But amidst the moments, I tend to forget everything as I saw the patch of light that illuminated his golden hair, and lit up just the right part of his eyes, and their gaze into mine, and somehow I felt too immbolized to pull away. I know I'm doing this for Prim, but deep down it feels wrong. I'm sleeping with the enemy - literally. I didn't ask for this - didn't want it - can't control the fire. I can't control my body, and that makes me loathe myself way more than I loathe him. He is my enemy, after all.

I had always thought that if I would ever do this, it would be with _him_, a nameless and faceless person who has earned my respect and love. In one of my broken girl fantasies, I'd do this out of love, not - not out of protection, fear, or lust.

If word ever got out, I'd be considered trash in my district - even lower than the poor, dying creatures that haunt the sooty dirt roads of the Seam.

If I could be honest with myself for one moment, if I could ever brush past the proud exterior, I would tell myself that this isn't the worst deal I could've made. Things could be much, much worse. He didn't have to keep his parts of our deals. He could have broken them, and then keep Lavinia away from me, and I'd never find out about it. He could have left people to starve in the prison - he at least feeds them once a day, I've heard. He could break his deals right in front of me and laugh in my face. But he doesn't. As long as I don't give him reason to, he won't hurt me too much.

Something in my mindset, or should I say a part of me, wanted to convince me that it doesn't feel so bad. It keeps my family alive. It keeps Prim safe from him. He doesn't do this to others. He doesn't rape me anymore. I don't resist. I don't pull away. And I don't lie limp. I respond to him, even if my body is sore and my heart is aching. I let him. In the shady corners of my mind, dark thoughts clouded: if I didn't have this, I wouldn't be able to experience this kind of pleasure, I would've never had anything like this, because no District 12 boy would be able to afford me this kind of bliss. Yes, it's pain, but there's bliss thrown in - a bliss one would not understand if they were not in my shoes, a bliss too scarce to scoop out of the pain. And...he's not old.

And I guess I should be mollified that I don't have to do this with hordes of men - only one. At least this way I am not a whore.

I found out that if I do good, if I obey, if I please him, he kissed me tenderly everywhere on my body. The light butterfly kisses made my sore body tingle with warmth. They seemed to erase the bruises and welts I've earned through time. Shame filled me for yearning for them - but then I ask myself, if I can not yearn for them, what else can I yearn for?

And I never had an answer.

I ached with longing to see my family again. I've only seen Prim, Gale, and Mother that one time. Lavinia hasn't come. No one has come. Except for him.

And he would just nod when I asked him how my family was doing. I decided I'd want to take its meaning as they're okay. But I'm not sure.

"You're mine," he'd often whisper into my ear, a whisper that chilled me to the bone and made my spine rattle and my teeth chatter and shake.

And I replied back, "Never." And then I'd have earned myself a good backhand or a good yank on the hair, which my throat is exposed until I can feel his teeth drawing drops of blood.

I'm growing more unsure each day. And in the nights, I weep.

But no one was there to dry my tears. So they kept falling.

Like me.

* * *

"Full house."

Cato threw his cards in their faces with an expression of triumph planted on his face. The other men sitting round the table applauded, insincere smiles planted on their faces. They were afraid what he would do if they beat him.

After the coins were scooped up and most of the wine glasses empty, the men left, one by one, pleasantly shaking his hand, saying pleasant words, smiling pleasant smiles as they hurried out the door.

Only Cato and General Brutus were left.

General Brutus was not one to particularly believe in the nonsense of manners. He believed himself the most trusted king's advisor and a great companion. He didn't fear the king so much as the other men. _Cowards,_ he sneered inwardly as he let out a huge burp. _After four glasses of wine..._

King Cato didn't pay any heed to it. He was deep in thought on his comfy little armchair, sipping his glass of wine.

It burned at the back of his throat, but there had been anything tastier. Or more satisfying. Or more relieving. The burgandy, velvety fire was his second consultant.

_This was what hell tastes like. _

He said that to Brutus.

"I am sure then that heaven tastes like heaven, Your Majesty," Brutus replied with a small bow.

_I'd know,_ Cato thought dirtily with a knowing smirk, but it quickly disappeared.

"Brutus."

"Yes, Your Majesty?" hiccuped the general, downing his fifth glass.

"How fare the prisoners?"

"They - they in the dungeons just like you ordered, Majesty." HICCUP.

"I am most inclined to ask if any one of them in particular...stands out to you?"

A look of surprise flitted across the general's hazy face. "Not - particularly - Majesty - " -hiccup- "- perhaps - " -hiccup- " - the one that wasn't imprisoned..."

Cato's lip curled. "Yes...her. What kind of prisoner do you make her out to be, Brutus?"

Brutus looked quite surprised now by this particular question. "One of them rebels, Majesty...you know, spittin' fire, won't take nobody's shit. But all them District 12 prisoners look the same to me: starving, worn, beaten-down faces drowned in misery..."

Cato glanced in the other direction, not wanting to listen anymore. The girl's head kept on appearing in his mind.

Shit. He tried to shake her off, but she clung to his fucking mind. And he was sure he wasn't drunk.

Anybody in the kingdom would tell you he wasn't an alcoholic. And he wasn't. No. He was just wealthy. Enjoying the occasional glass of wine or two. Who drank wine instead of water just because he could.

And he took her, just because he could. He was king. He fought for power. And he earned it. So why shouldn't he be able to revel in all power and glory he held? Why should he not do whatever he wanted to do?

"Your Majesty?"

"Speak, Brutus."

"Pardon my rashness, just the opinion of your loyal servan', Majesty, but with your power and majesticness you can hav any woman ya want; ya don't have to put up with dem 12 coal sluts - "

"Be silent!"

Brutus shut upped.

"That will do. You may go."

He didn't need to be told twice.

Cato stood there, his back to him, his chest breathing up and down. He didn't remember the last time he got so worked up...at Brutus. And why the hell was he angry again?

Over the years, he'd come to enjoy the power he had over people. Power was something associated with pride in District 2. And with pride, honor. He was born into it, he trained with it, he lived in it. And he's worked for more. It had all been leading up to this; all those difficult years of throwing away a proper childhood to grow up into a ruthless ruler with power to bend. He's worked hard and long for this, and maybe he's finally gotten himself a victory prize.

He very much deserved to enjoy it all; dominating his prize and taming it into submission. He earned this. So why did watching her cry _not fully satisfy him? _Why did seeing her face covered in tears, like fresh-cut roses after spring rain, do nothing for his ego, like his father taught him? Why that everytime he saw her soft-as-a-petal body, scattered with welts and bruises, he had wanted to kiss them gone (he inflicted them, right)? Why does his arms want to wrap themselves around her, of their own accord, when she looked as if she had fallen and wouldn't be able to get up? The weak do not deserve his pity.

His mother -

His hand gripped the crystal goblet so hard, it shattered in his hand. _No, he would not think about his mother._ Pieces of glass fell about the room. Forget the roses. Forget the tears. He'd shatter her, just like glass. She was only his to break. Another enemy to destory, more power to gain. Nothing more, nothing less. And when she'd finally recognize herself as his, he would throw back his head, and he would laugh in triumph - like master over slave, like king over prisoner.

The fireplace crackled and seemingly, burnt a bit brighter.

* * *

**A**dding the final touch to her fiery red lips and placing the heavyset of jewels into her groomed hair, she finally dared to gaze at her reflection. Pleased with what she saw, she smiled into the mirror. Oh, that felt quite weird. She had not smiled in awhile.

_I think this would be his favorite, _she thought. She peered closer into the mirror as if to verify her beliefs.

Giving a small sigh of content, she leaned back into her cushioned chair. Her gaze flickered to the gardens outside. Beautiful. The roses were in full-bloom among the greenest of green grass. Thick bushes and healthy, spurting trees dotted the grounds, their branches heavy with fruit and berries like jewels. Oh, and the horses would be allowed to graze soon, too! She hadn't been outside in awhile.

Patches of sunshine fell on her skin as she crossed over and stood in front of a window. The little critters were starting to come out, and the grounds would soon burst with life. She smirked. Leave it to the other kingdoms to think this one desolate and void.

She cross back over to the glass table sitting near the foot of her bed, where sat a bowl of fruit upon it. Sinking into a chair, she absentmindedly picked up her carving knife and set to work on a half-finished apple. In the bowl sat some of her recently finished creations: a pear in the shape of a swan (with extending wings), butterfly plums, an assortment of berries resembling a flower basket, kiwi stars, and roses made out of oranges, both fruit and peel. Oranges were nice, but apples were much more appealing (and easier) to make roses.

She was almost finished slicing the last petal when a knock sounded at her door.

A frown tugged at her features, but a hopeful thudding claimed her heart. Setting down her rose-apple, she made her way to the double doors, smoothed out her embroidered gown, and adjusted her jewelry. Cautiously, carefully, she opened the door, her smile widening along with her gate to the outside world.

The king stood there, dressed in a rich, flowing set of robes. His crown was neatly placed in his tousled blonde hair, just as she remembered last seeing it. She quickly moved over so he and his muscles could come in.

She bowed, trying not to trip over her spiky heels. "Good day, I am honored by the presence of your visit, Your Majesty." She swallowed, her heart thudding giddily.

He kissed her hand. "Good day to you too, my dear Clove."

"You've finally come. Why were you away so long?" Any other District 2 woman with her bluntness and it'd be off with their heads in a few seconds.

"I wished I could have spared some time, but with the unity of the kingdoms and business to take care of, it's been a mess. It is my that hope we wed as soon as fate allows, dear betrothed."

* * *

** Wait, BETROTHED?! WHAT?! What's Clove doing here?! And how is she betrothed to Cato?!**** Why did he not want to think about his mother? ****How much more sanity remains with Katniss? How's Peeta doing? Questions to ponder...**

**I have revealed about Clove! Of course we'll learn more about this mystery in the next chapter**

**Katniss's song is a parody of the Les Mis song Castle on a Cloud...beautiful song.**

**Katniss's lament took the longest to write and edit (I had started on it before writing Chapter 5) and actually means a lot to me. I spent a lot of time working on it. ~Fun Fact~ To finish this by tonight, I stayed up late...and had a few hallucinations, lol! I can change the genre of this to horror because of this chapter. **

**~On Clove's fruit art, I LOVE fruit art and think it's one of the coolest things ever (google it if you've never heard of fruit art). **

**Oh, BY THE WAY, this may be a little early, but KUDOS to anybody who's paying attention to the smaller details!**

**And of course, KUDOS to my brilliant, amazing, fabulous reviewers out there! 121! You guys have been generous! If we get a good amount of reviewers this time like the last chapter, I'll try to update sooner than the usual time!**

**Absolutely Adorkable- thank you SO much that meant a lot to me :)**

**crazy101kitty- Thanks a lot, reading that made my day! :)**

**The Giggling Gummy Bear- Thank you for reviewing, hope this chapter captured your interest as well. Peeta will come in the next few chapters**

**Jenefra- LOL That made me laugh :) Exactly what I'm thinking all this time, really! Thanks for reviewing, hope you like it**

**HeyoMyFellowReaders101- It WILL change, believe me. More of Cato's background is being revealed, and I'm so excited. Thanks for sticking by all this time and reviewing every chapter :) (LOL, I flipped out too :D wait, I updated, say whaaaaaaat?)**

**Abigail25- Thank you so much, love your reviews :)**

**IDreamofLullaby's- Completely understandble, but I wonder if you'll hate him as the story goes on? :) Thanks so much for reviewing, and aww, thank you!**

** .theCHipmunk- THANK YOU SO, SO MUCH for your amazing review, made me smile so much :) I am honored, and hopefully I can continue to entrall amazing readers like you!**

**Guest- No, it doesn't sound crazy, I appreciate your review :) I loved all the figurative language in your review, and I intended to make Cato and Prim seem that way...thank you so much!**

**wolfshifter101- Yes there is! Hope you liked the chapter, thanks for reviewing :)**

**BlackDove085- Thank YOU also for bringing such great inspiration :) We all had to start somewhere, and look where you are today :) I never thought I'd be talking to such honorable Catoniss authors, but here I am! BrieflySweet thanks you for the love and happy writing of which she always returns, and would likewise love to hear from you as well. **

**Drunken Assassin- I'm glad we got that cleared up, the story will turn into something more :)**

**sundragons- Thanks for your help, wondering if the catch was something you had expected :)**

**dragonflame- I won't make this a Peeta/Katniss story, I think there's enough of those. Of course they'll be "others" trying to keep Cato and Katniss apart...but can they? Aww, I'm sorry, stay strong for us! I always love your reviews, and it's ok, it's kinda late for cookies but never too late for reviews :)**

**Tory a- Thanks a lot, I can't express how much that means to me :) Thanks for just taking the time to read/review, you are awesome and I appreciate it so much**

**Inescapable void- Thanks for the long review! I'm sorry about them...I did warn in the 1st chap but I should probably warn again huh thanks for bringing that to my attention. I'm actually a poetry writer, I like to tell stories just how they are, details and all. LOL :) Thanks so much for always reviewing, really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed typing it...getting it out of me. And to be honest about the soup, I confess, I never did say whether he put something in it or not ;) Katniss had only his word to go by at that moment**

**thepinkmartini- Thanks for always reviewing! Appreciate it :) I love writing bits and pieces of the character's backgrounds! Hope you liked the chapter, thanks so much!**

**Sweet Violent Lightning- Wow, I was really touched by your kind review :) Thank you SO much! I really appreciated it, was so sweet. If you like reading this, I'll always love writing it!**

**Dark-Spectacles : No problem, just this one review has gotten so much appreciation from me I cant even put it in words :) Thanks for your time, you were really sweet and you made my day. I'm sure you're talented, you already have a talent with words! I dunno why, but I like cliffies lol :) they excite me to write, thanks, really appreciate it by the way**

**Guest-Why, yes, yes it does!**

**Hidden in DReams- Wow, I don't even know what to say. Collins is a litery genius and to be compared to her is just...extrodinary. Thank you SO much! :) I dunno if I actually did, I tried to make them stay in character at least if for a bit, but I am SO glad you liked it and blessed the story with your kind review! You've just made my night, a special shoutout to you for your kind and sweet review. Thank you for reviewing, really appreciate it! **

**Also additional thanks to reviewers Did My Skirt Just Get Shorter, Guest, another Guest, xxCherrydawnxx, Vampirebooklover09, meg grimm, hungergameslover4567, rayleen14, and catnipgirlonfire**

**P.S. A SHOUTOUT TO JAWSOME, I still think you're as wonderful and as brilliant as ever, and can't wait for you to get back. don't know if you're reading this, but if you are, kudos to you, my friend!**

**PP.S. Thanks to sundragons for her idea **


	7. Desire

**Important note: This chapter happens in chronological order. None of the characters are in two places at once! **

* * *

"Will it?" murmured Clove, eyeing her twiddling hands.

The king arched an eyebrow. Nobody ever dared to challenge him that way. She'd make a fiesty queen. He could deal with that, he supposed.

"Of course, my lady." He gently tugged on one of her hands and brought his lips to it again. "I've missed having your sweet presence next to me. I hope time shall allow us to spend more time together?"

"I have all the time in the world," she replied, and he felt his heart sink, just a bit.

"Words I have never been happier to hear," he said as he took her hands into his own and held them as if they were something sacred. He leaned down to kiss her, but retaliated in surprise (and shock) when she purposefully turned her cheek away and strolled over to the window. His patience was thinning. Just a little bit. He went after her.

She sat down. "You've been away so long." Batting her glossed-over lashes, the bright red lips folded into a sultry pout (which clashed horribly with her smeared eyeliner).

_Didn't you_ just_ state that?_ Cato his lips into a smile, he replied, "I know. And I apologize. You must know, though, being away from you so long has pained me as much as it pained you."

She made a sort of _hmph_ sound and didn't turn around.

"That is why," Cato continued, everything his father taught him swirling around and mumbling and jumbling around in his head, "I'll make it up to you. Personally."

"Personally?"

"Yes...love. Your happiness means so much to me." He kissed her, and she let him this time. He sat down by her.

She looked him over. Her hands reached up to touch him somewhere, anywhere. "You make it difficult to be angry at you."

He smiled. "So I do."

"You do." Her fingers tingled wonderfully, running through his hair, which was more tousled than ever before.

"So that means you forgive me?"

"Well, no, not really, I - " She ceased talking as her hands caressed his shoulders and her eyes flitted up to his headpiece, attracted to the glinting from the sun. "I would just love to know when our wedding is, love. It means the world to me." She imagined all the fruit she'd cut for the wedding, arranged in centerpieces and cornucopias and set for eloquent displays.

"We've been betrothed for about a year, I would not wish to put off our wedding sooner. However, as much as it pains me to say, love, the feast _is_ coming up quite soon, the Victory Banquet with our ally..."

"Yes, I've heard of that. It's only a few weeks away. The Capitol, right?"

"They have helped us generously, and we must give back." He wondered what the ruler of the Capitol - old man Snow - liked to eat. _Probably the liver of a child._

"I will be looking forward to the feast. It'll be quite a change this year, now that our kingdom finally has guests." She felt her cheeks heating up. "I _am_ invited to the feast, am I not, my Lord?"

"My lady, of course you are." He noticed her hand smelt like apple when he kissed it again. His father loved apple.

"You are good to me, My Lord." Her eyes were shining as she spoke. "Best king of our kingdom in centuries."

After that, they embraced and kissed passionately. Tongues seared and old feelings arose like that of a sparking flame.

A while into it, Cato's large hands found themselves holding her waist - searching for an opening to slide themselves up. Clove immediately broke the kiss, leaving his lips on fire and still burning. She set her own in a smirk. "No, my lord. None of that until we are married."

When the time came (and came it did rather soon), he bid her farewell very politely. She closed the door with hope restored in her. The first thing he did after leaving her room was finding a mirror and fixing his tousled hair.

* * *

**Katniss Pov**

Something tells me he'll come for sure tonight. I don't know why. I don't know how. All I know is he's coming.

It's rather strange. He used to come everyday, then he didn't come for one day, and now he started coming again, about every other day. I'm not sure how much less. I just know it's less than before. Not that I'm complaining, of course. In fact, I'm rather grateful that I have some nights to myself. My only laments are Lavinia and family; I haven't seen both of them in awhile. I wonder how they are doing. Are they eating enough? Are they being treated right? Why won't Lavinia come visit?

As much as she worships him, even she must be somewhat frightened of him. He hasn't been in a good mood recently; the new bite marks along my torso say so.

Before he came in, I made sure to remove my threadbare dress and lay underneath the blankets to wait for him. He likes it when I think of him. Oh Prim, you ought to listen to me now! Since when do I care what a man thinks of me?

I didn't have to wait long. He came in quietly, as he always did, and he shut the doors primly and properly as any other night. His footsteps were silent. I shivered underneath his blankets - praying he was in a good mood.

To my surprise, he didn't do anything drastic or heavy this time. He simply covered me from head to toe in light kisses (which reminded me of dandelion fluff in the breezes back home). After he was finished, he merely rolled over and went to sleep.

One can say I'm more than shocked. He didn't try to touch me tonight, even I'd gotten naked for him (I felt so dirty thinking like this). But why did he bathe me in kisses? Was he too tired tonight for our regular activity? I laid there in the dark next to him, thinking.

He was incredibly big - I didn't know men could grow to become that size, least I've never seen any muscular guys in 12. Even his arms are nearly triple the size of mine. He could snap my neck without even blinking, without twitching so much of an eye. And yet, each time his arms were around me, I was reminded of stories I've been told and things I've seen - man and woman snuggling together, just warm and happy and comfortable to be in each other's embrace. Why am I putting two and two together, even though they have nothing to do with the other? Why do I keep on thinking of couples when I think of Cato and me? Those thoughts are absolutely absurd. Man and woman were gentle, caring, in love. Cato and I are enemies, and currently I am at his mercy. There is no passion between our activity.

But I've never had the attention of a man - until now.

He was always gentle with my breasts. He never bit or scratched them harshly; usually, when his attention is on them, he fixed them with an almost tender gaze and then proceeded to gently take one into his mouth. They were showered with butterfly kisses, something the rest of my body yearned for when he was harsh.

His hands that touched me - hands that are calloused, hands that have done things, hands that possibly have murdered - would stroke me gently and softly until I was drowning in my own whimpers, until I was forgetting about all the deeds done with them. Letting out a sob, I'd bury my face in the crook of his neck. He paid no attention to my nails as they sank into his back, which would be flushed with sweat as both of us panted our way into heavenly acres. He would sometimes leave right away. Other times he'd bask in the afterglow with me.

Hearing his breathing in the dark, I couldn't help but wonder, all those times he was in a hurry, he was away - was there - was there someone else, perhaps some time in the past? Did he keep prisoner another like me, struggling to protect her family, to save what's left of the only home she's ever known? Did he threaten her? Did his anger have something to do with her (or the other way around)? Did he pleasure her?

Did he kill her?

Is that what he's going to do with me once he gets tired of me? These nights come back to me in a way that rises goosebumps on my skin.

Glancing at his back, I saw the small patch of moonlight lighting up his hair. My eyes trailed down his neck, shoulders, to his muscular back that looks smooth and scarred at the same time. In one heavy breath I didn't realize I was holding, my hand of its own accord reached out and traced the small scars littering his back.

I don't know how long I do this or why I'm doing this - or even if I'm aware of myself doing it. I stroke each scar as if it were something sacred that needed a special healing touch. My fingers had a dreamlike mind of their own. Each trace, each caress was a dancer in flight, an ice skater skating figure eights in starlight.

"I'm not asleep, Katniss."

My heart nearly stops, and I drew my hand away as fast as I can as he turns around and faced me. The heat radiated off of my face at his piercing gaze. Awkwardness practically steamed from my ears and floated out all around us.

For a moment, I'm too mortified to say anything. And then I blurted out, "You have lots of them."

His eyebrows flit up. He's not the only one surprised at blunt, morbid curiosity. He turned his gaze to the polished mahogany ceiling of his canopy. "Yes. I know."

A pinch of irritation irks up in me at his simple answer. Then I realized that it may not say much, but that didn't mean it said nothing at all.

"Do they hurt?"

His stare came back onto me. "No," he said after he blinked a few times, "They were there a long time ago."

I wondered if he was lying. Back in District 12, when Gale and I went hunting all the time, we'd also get hurt. It didn't happen often - we were careful hunters, but sometimes on a good day, where we got stuff like a whole deer or a litter of rabbits, we'd have a moment of celebration and let our guards down. I remembered how Gale would get scars and cuts and bruises on himself, and when I'd try to heal him (not that I'm much of a healer, anyways), he'd smirk stupidly and he'd say, "They're nothing, Catnip. They don't hurt." He lied, though. The strain in his voice, the pain on his face was as clear to me as day.

But now that I'm here in this man's bed, I can't even read him properly. Something just tugged at me, though. Something told me he's not telling the entire truth. But why do I care? I ask myself. We're supposed to be enemies. We grew up in different districts, born and bred to slay the parties that are not our own people. I'm kind of in a downfall at that one, since he's got my district captured. But...but why does he keep me in his bed? Is he slowly taking his time to break me? Will he separate my head from body after he's gotten enough of me? Or could he shrewdly be planning something else?

My thoughts are interrupted by his arms, wounding their way around me until I'm pressed against his chest, snuggled next to him. It is this kind of intimate gesture that worried me. It isn't normal behavior for two enemies. It sent me into a sort of panic. Through my hunting instincts, when an animal behaves abnormally, it usually means something very bad is coming this way. In that moment, I lose it.

"Don't hurt me," my voice came out barely a whisper, "I've been hurt enough." _ My pride has been deprived from me. I sounded so weak. I sounded like I surrendered. What would my kingdom think of me, reduced to this? How can I ever rescue my people if I act like a coward? _

But I still wished for him not to hurt me.

His reply thoroughly startled me.

"We're not so different, you and I. We've never been graced with a second option...we cannot make our own mark without it belonging to someone else."

I couldn't fall asleep. I laid in bed, and dwelled on his words, his soft snores providing background music.

* * *

**Peeta (Third Person Pov**)

"Are they almost done?"

"Almost," he replied with a smile, peering in at the oven. He could feel their exhales of relief.

"Oh, you do so much for us," sang the pleasantly plump Donna, who always wore an apron that didn't fit her middle, "You're such a big help here, even if you're a bit new and young." She put her hands to her mouth and giggled, her belly shaking.

"We've always been busy during the time of the feast, but this year...oh goodness, you are like a saint!" said Mary Lou, the stringy-haired, stick-figured woman who reminded Peeta of children from the Seam, "I dunno how you managed to bake all those puff pastries and breads at once! And that cake..." Her eyes filled with stars, as if she could suddenly taste it.

Peeta gulped. Having grown up in the Merchant section of 12, he's seen the kids who go around begging to make ends meet. Was all this food going to be eaten anyways? Wouldn't the feast be better if it was passed to the hungry, the people who were starving?

Peeta didn't like to speak ill of people, but perhaps the king of 2 really was a tyrant. Ah, at least he didn't harm Katniss, Lavinia had informed him. Yet. Peeta was glad to take work in the kitchen, for the cooks loved to gossip what was going on in the castle. This way he could do what he loved (even if it was in a place he didn't find welcoming) and keep tabs on 2. The sooner his people were rescued, the better.

"With Peeta here, the feast will be a grand success," Greasy Sae threw an arm around Peeta's shoulders, "I can just imagine His Majesty's face as he bites into your bread, and his expression going 'Good heavens! Who made this remarkable masterpiece?'" She winked at him and went back to the sink.

Peeta forced himself to smile. His hands started to shake when he began to knead the new dough.

* * *

**Cato**

He remembered walking along this stone path as if it were yesterday. The frosty mist hung thick in the air, accompanied by a slight sliver of light from the skies. Morning dew dotted the patches of greenery. He could feel closer to his destination with every step he took.

The stone wall finally came into view. They were only about an inch taller than he was.

He walked along beside it, running his hand across its cool smoothness. It was a wonder the rock managed to remain smooth. These walls had been a long, long time ago. Curly green tendrils clung at the top. A spiderweb had collected many dewdrops, which made it glitter like a fabric sewn with pearls. His fingers never left the touch of stone.

He remembered the roses, too. The roses that had bloomed here many years ago. And then they'd stopped blooming.

He cracked his knuckles. It felt good. He needed to relieve himself of some stress. CRACK. That felt so good. And so did power. CRACK.

She was such a small woman. That's why she felt so good, he reasoned. That was the only reason why. If he worked her too hard, would she eventually break? Not that he cared. Hell, she could break if she wanted to. In fact, he'd wanted to break her in the first place. Okay, maybe he had wanted to break her emotionally, but he supposed it didn't matter how the enemy was dominated as long as they were, well, defeated.

Damnit! Everytime he came close to deflating her, he'd always let himself go. So many times he had wanted to get his whip, to humiliate her, to beat her down. He'd have even thrown her in the dungeons. But something kept him restrained, everytime. And he didn't doubt that something was himself.

It was a sign of weakness, he decided. He didn't know where it came from, didn't know why it came, but he knew it was there. He was softening. What would his father say, if he could see his son getting this worked up over a wench? Especially a wench from _12_? Castor's voice rang in his head: _"We are 2. We do not associate with the low. We enslave them, we bring them to bow under our mercy. We show no mercy, we show no weakness. We are always strong. We're survivors. Our alliance with the Capitol shall someday aid you, my son. That is why I have arranged it."_

He perked up, listening to a sudden brush of the chilly zephyr. It wasn't set in stone that the wench had to be killed or destroyed. She could be useful, if she was going to invade his mind from now on. He glanced up at the colorful sky with rock-hard eyes, and then at the wall he had unknowlingly been punching. He had to get back to the castle. It wouldn't do for the people of 2 to see their king lashing out, now would it?

* * *

**Lavinia**

Never had there been a heavier box. Each step felt like lead. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought she had an Adam's apple. There always seemed to be something stuck in her throat these days.

She had the urge to lift the top and take a peek inside, just a quick peek she's sure that won't harm anybody. She won't even breathe on it. Honest. They made the wedding gowns so delicate in this kingdom.

Whenever the wedding was spoken of, Lavinia secretly wanted to cry. There was never a more horrible match, she'd thought. The vicious maiden was not worthy enough of their king. Lavinia knew she shouldn't be personally biased, but she liked to be real. To be real, who wouldn't admit that carving fruit is a_ little_ creepy? Maybe not just carving fruit as an art. But Lavinia shuddered upon the time she was bringing the queen-to-be a drink in the middle of the night and she heard noises coming from inside the door. They were whispers.

At first Lavinia had thought that there was a guest inside (perhaps the king?) and wondered if she should intrude. Then she realized, as she shamefully listened some more, that there was nobody else in there and the queen was talking to herself. Or to put it more accurately, her fruit. Who wouldn't be even a little spooked if they heard stuff like "Are you hurting? I want you to hurt real, real bad" or "This is your head and I'm carving your skin, digging into your skull, tell me, does it hurt, huh, describe your pain to me, I can sympathize..." in the middle of the night? If she dared say it, Mistress Clove was...insane.

Lavinia supposed that Clove had her reasons. She just wished Clove wasn't going to be queen. There were far better women out there, including the young woman from District 12. But she had stopped visiting Katniss so often, assuming it was just a matter of time before the king would get sick of her. She had taken a liking to Katniss, and the knowledge of Katniss being taken away added ever so much to her sense of loneliness.

But...Katniss hadn't been taken away yet. She's even been given her own room in a tower, locked and guarded of course. Lavinia decided to visit her. Seeing Katniss would give her a little, if not the tiniest drop of hope against her growing dread. But with the feast coming up and so much to prepare and do, it's been a hassle for Lavinia to see anyone at all. It was such a good thing Peeta Mellark came to help in the kitchen. She'd never known he was quite talented with flour. And he was such a nice person. Something was always on his mind, but he was nice. It's hard to meet nice people in the castle.

The drop in her stomach was even heavier than the symbol she was carrying, the symbol of that a marriage, something that was supposed to be cherished, something that was supposed to bring merriment. Instead, it brought Lavinia a raw kind of misery, the kind she couldn't explain.

* * *

Two hundred miles away, another castle sat surrounded by mountains. It had taller towers than the one in 2, more turrets, and more guards. Carved out of stone, it loomed over the village below it like a giant. Of course, the bustling villagers never really paid much attention to its shadow. They were too busy gleaming with richness and color. News spread like wildfire in their kingdom. (Oh, oh, did you hear? The war has ended! The war has ended! Panem is united! Or so they thought.)

In the throne room, the hearth crackled almost eerily. The flames flickered and shadows danced on the walls. Even though the fire was going, it was a cold room. But not an empty one.

The royal throne on the platform was occupied by a strange being. His was not very tall, but the platform he was sitting on seemed to make one think so. His eyes were glassed over, as if he were looking into some other world. He wore only the finest robes, made from real tiger hide and deer skin. He had a gleaming chandelier, but if one looked closely enough, one can see the trophies of hunting parties hung all around the room. For some, it sent a shiver down their spine.

King Snow flicked his cape over his shoulder with a gloved hand. His head rested atop one hand. Ah, no wonder no one else was there in the room with him. He lay deep in thought, and whomever shall distract the king from his meditation can kiss hello to a death penalty. The sickly-sweet aroma of roses and blood didn't help enlighten the room, either, especially not the scent that came from his lips (of which were fuller than an overly made-up woman's).

The war had ended. The feast was only a few weeks away. Step one of his plans had succeeded nicely. He was to meet with the new king of 2 at the feast. He was looking forward to it, if he were to be honest to himself. There were many an interesting thing he'd heard...

He smiled devilishly. The war had ended. His lips curled into a sneer. Or so the rest of Panem thought.

* * *

**Sorry it took me longer than a week to update! They should rename February "The Birthday Month." Just about everybody I know has a birthday around this time. And I'm never one to pass parties!**

**So, what some of you said about Cato making Katniss his queen. It's not going to be that easy, eh? **

**Anyways, with that said, thank you for all your amazing reviews as always. I'm really excited for what's coming up next (as in throughout the story), I have a lot more things unexpected, just like Cato and Clove's engagement. I wasn't trying THAT hard to make Cato so unlikable, but I guess I did. I know this wasn't as much of a chapter as the last one, but I'd like to think the next one will be a bit longer. We'll see. **

**And some very special ones out of the amazing reviews, THANK YOU SO, SO MUCH for your compliments on my writing skills. Writing has always been a passion of mine, and I love what I do. I'm using very simple language with deeper meaning concealed inside some of them. To those who pay attention to small details throughout the story, you will find them. **

**And thank you for some of the most beautiful feedback/responses I had ever gotten. When I first read them, I was so shocked and touched that I kinda just sat there blinking at my screen for awhile, reading them over and over again with a smile on my face. **

** 2 Fun Facts about this story:**

**1. Enraptured Prisoner was inspired by a series of Snow White fanfics.**

**2. I listened to "God Help the Outcasts" from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame (amazing song, amazing movie by the way :) over and over again when I wrote some of the previous chapters ( particularly the last chapter)**

**The more you review, the quicker I'll be inspired to update (I remember when 30 reviewed for one chapter! WOW!). I'll update Freedom of a Mockingjay very soon by the way, didn't forget about that :) And I may go back and edit this, depending on the turnout **

* * *

**Hey, if you're reading this, you found the bonus preview for the next chapter:**

* * *

_"He what?" she hissed through her bared teeth. Her two fang-teeth glinted as she stalked forward in menacing steps. "Who was that girl at the feast? The one with the braid?!"_


	8. Pets

**OMG I had NO idea it was nearly a month! Time kills. I was writing the chapter this entire time and I just never realized how fast the days go by. I wanted this to be a long chapter. I am SO sorry I didn't realize...thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and followers. I have exciting news at the bottom of the page, but you should read the chapter first :) By far, the longest chapter I have ever written - past 10,000 words, wooow! **

**I've missed you all!**

**Warning: This chapter is very much rated M with jokes. Every offensive thought/spoken word of a character (some of them are a bit sexist) does not reflect my personal opinions.**

* * *

**Third Person**

**I**n the deep, dark, musty dungeons of the castle, it was not an easy affair to breathe. Every stone wall seemed to hold an ancient, foul odor that could be felt instead of smelt. Shadows terrified every corner and little things, things that were alive, darted and scurried out from corners when least expected.

The cells crowded with District 12 captives were growing uneasy. Many of them (Merchants, especially) demanded to gain their freedom. The Peacekeepers replied that if they wanted to be citizens living 2, they had to let go of their 12 heritages completely and think no thoughts of going back to 12. Until then, don't even think about seeing daylight.

Furthermore, if anyone had any information regarding those who are in hiding, they are encouraged to share it. Sharing the information, they claimed, was showing loyalty to the King of 2. In return, they would be rewarded "beyond their wildest dreams" and would be set free to live in the kingdom as District 2 citizens along with their families.

Nobody had come forward yet. For the most part, 12 was a small kingdom, and sure they had the Seam and the Merchants, whom didn't always get along, but when faced in the terms of reality, they decided they were still a kingdom and they needed to stick together as one. They knew where their loyalties lie. Of course, there were still one or two musked rats in the crowd wanting to cop a cheap deal, but the thing was, very few people actually knew the whereabouts of the royal Undersee family.

It was easy to say that they were one kingdom. But even a kingdom has its downsides. Katniss had not chosen her words carefully enough. In her deal, only her friends and family were to be fed better. For the rest of 12, food was scarce and people were hungry. Whenever scraps or tough biscuits were tossed in, there would be a fight. Survival of the fittest. Or in this case, the fastest and the hungriest, because human hunger can lure one to do inhumane things.

Prim and her mother tried to ignore the sour looks on their cellmates' faces as they were passed their food, but it wasn't always easy. Their trays held a considerably larger amount of food. One time, they even had the luxury of a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. They'd always share, but they had their limits as well (the boys in the back could get greedy). And fighting couldn't be seen by the Peacekeepers, or else there'd be punishment for all and no food.

Mrs. Everdeen tried to keep her and Prim as far away as possible from the fights. Secretly, her shame had no limit. What kind of a mother was she if she couldn't protect her daughters from this kind of suffering? Each day seemed darker than the last. Very often would she find herself slipping away again, to the world of oblivion. It was a nice place; there was literally nothing there and she could mourn her husband all day along and nobody would disrupt her. Yet however, something deep and maternal in her chest called out to her, the need of her to take care of her one daughter, who she can be sure is alive. Tears would spring to her eyes if she thought of the older daughter - she could not protect Katniss, and now she didn't know where Katniss was or if she was even alive. If her husband was dead and Katniss was dead, and she died...then poor, sweet Prim would be alone in the world.

This prospect was the only thing keeping her from giving in to the darkness that constantly threatened to consume her into its depth.

Prim was more than happy to have her mother back. Mrs. Everdeen would rarely speak, but her arms were open and her eyes gave her the love Prim yearned for. Prim's mind had decided to think that Katniss was alive, otherwise, what could explain for the bit of improved conditions and food? Katniss was alive, she felt sure, and was trying her hardest to find them. Each day she gets a little closer. Each day is one more step till that day. For now, Prim kept neat and quiet. She shared their food with the others, sang nightmare-plagued children to sleep, talked with her mother, and tried her best to make life as easy possible. She found that glancing at the tiny narrow slit of a window every so often helped lighten her world. She could pretend that the limited rays of sunlight slipping in could lead her away to a beautiful meadow, where the air would smell sweet instead of musky.

* * *

**Gale** was on the verge of cracking. Fish paste sandwiches tasted like nothing to him. He craved meat. His hunter instincts have been at war with his rationalty. Break out. Break out and go free. Hunt. Hunt and get meat. Marry Katniss and be happy. Marry Katniss -

No. Katniss could be dead. He couldn't bear to think of her.

He didn't notice that he had a slice of burnt raisin bread this time. It tasted just like fish paste, bland and null. It crackled in his mouth and felt dry going down his throat. He felt angry when the other guys in his cell glared at him. What did they know? Do they know how much he's suffering? Do they know how much it hurts?

He didn't know that Posy often had nightmares. He didn't know that Hazelle was eating well in her life for the first time. He also didn't know that two other men were thinking about Katniss. He only knew that the people around him were suffering, and he was suffering more than they were.

* * *

**Peeta**

He was going to come off smelling like flour for the rest of his life, but that was nearly the last thing on his mind. The feast was scheduled for tomorrow. He was to be serving people at the feast.

Peeta Mellark had never met anyone that he hated in his life, but that was perhaps to change. The king of 2 was everything a king should NOT be: tyranny, selfish, greedy, and most of all, cruel. A king like that, in his mind, shouldn't be in charge of Panem. A king like that should not be king at all.

He remembered every customer that came into his old bakery in 12. Young, old, rich, poor, plump, skinny, shaven, hairy - each one had their own individuality. And Peeta loved each and every one of his customers (with few exceptions). If they hadn't any money, he'd slip them a small roll, sometimes filled with the fluffiest cream filling or sprinkled with hearty nuts, oats, and raisins. If they had not-exactly-enough money for something they'd wanted, he usually sold it to them anyway. Of course, all this happened when his mother wasn't around. Generally, no people came out of Mellark's Bakery with empty hands, stomachs, or eyes. Even Katniss had savored his bread.

Upon this array of memories, Peeta stirred whatever was in the pot with gigantic circular motions. He remembered it as if it were yesterday (was it?), and yet, the moment seemed so...distant from him, as if it happened with someone else and he was only there observing it. The unexpected spring storm, the pelting rain, his mother's anger, thunder, the crackling of the oven fire, roasting bread, and _her_ huddled underneath the apple tree in his front yard (which bore no fruit that particularly day). Even then, sickly and pale, too skinny for eleven, hollow-eyed with every rib showing, frail and dying, he'd thought she looked beautiful. He had watched her back getting further and further from him, as his mother's stick cut deeper and deeper into him. He was glad he could be of help.

He found himself back in the present, stirring the pot as fast as he could. "Oh, dear, do be careful! We will serve that at the feast, most likely to the king!" cried Donna.

Peeta slowed down. If the king was to be at the feast, and if he'd heard gossip from the kitchen staff correctly, rulers from the other kingdoms will be there. A few. Just a few.

But few would be enough. If he kept his eyes and ears open at the feast, he could figure out what was going on. He could tell King Undersee. And maybe, just maybe, be one step closer to rescuing his people from this tyrant place. Perhaps a servant will even know what happened to Katniss.

It would take time. But Peeta had time.

Until then, a jet of steam was emerging from the kettle on the stove.

* * *

**It** was located in a tower. You had to come to the end of a hallway, and then you had to cross the steps, which are located outside the hallway so you had no roof over your head and you could see the ground so faraway below you, and on a misty day, some wisps of cloud floating. When you finally reached the other end, you breathed out a gasp of relief, and then you better have a special key to unlock the door, or else you'd have to turn back. During the nights, there were usually guards standing outside the door, guards frozen like statues, but came to life once you make a tiny movement in the dark.

The sky bled colors off the rainbow. Light seeped into the room, giving it an almost-golden afternoon glow. It was a room of richness. It was a room of spicy cypress, rich mahogany, and smokey cedarwood furniture and smells. It had a dresser and a tiny secluded bathroom of tiles. Though not quite as big as the king's chambers, it had its own lovely point of view. A fireplace stood at one end, waiting for the flames to start their dance. It radiated warmth.

A cozy, canopy bed of wood and peachy color sat neatly tucked into the corner. Its harmless appearance might fool most. It was snug, but it was big enough for two, almost three. And it was made that way for a reason. There were two wooden doors, basically the only way out. Unless the massive unbreakable window counted (which it didn't).

Katniss

The door opened. Katniss, facing away from it, took a deep breath, and held the sheet of satin closer to herself. Any second now, his hand would reach out to touch her...please, let him be gentle this time...

"Just take what you want, and leave me alone. I'm in no mood for shit."

Nothing. Warily, she turned around.

"Lavinia!"

She almost wanted to run over and hug her. "Why haven't you come in so long?"

Lavinia cleared her throat. Oh, boy, this was going to be harder than she thought. "Katniss Everdeen, His Majesty orders you to accompany him at the feast, which will be taking place tonight at six."

Katniss's head snapped up. "_What_?! Why?" Emotions and questions coursed through her all at once. She didn't think she was capable of them anymore.

"P-P-Prisoners m-must never q-question orders," Lavinia read from the scroll that she'd unrolled. "P-Prisoners must..."

Katniss's face fell. "If you're here to read his orders, you can go away. I don't want to hear it." _I wish to see my family. I wish to know how they are. _

To her surprise, Lavinia suddenly burst into tears. "Oh, Katniss!" She ran over and threw her arms around the startled, shorter girl sitting on the bed. "I missed you so much! Only I didn't dare to visit you, b-b-because I was afraid he'd - but then you - we - me - coward - I - so glad - you're here - "

Embarrassed and shocked, Katniss awkwardly patted the maid's back. She could hardly understand what the heck Lavinia was blubbering about.

"What I mean to say is," said Lavinia, drying her eyes, "I'm so glad you're here! You have no idea how glad I am! Oh so, so glad!" She was practically squealing and jumping up and down.

"Uh, I'm _glad_, too," Katniss replied in a very awkward voice. "You've been away so long," she added, with a bit of an attitude. Something inside her flared. How could Lavinia have left her to deal with Cato alone? Then again, it would've been humiliating if she'd heard the noises coming from behind the door from when Cato was with her.

"I know I have!" sobbed Lavinia, who hiccuped and then blew her nose on a kerchief. "I'm so sorry, Katniss. I wanted to visit you - I really did - but you moved rooms - and oh this castle is just so big - and the others were too much!"

Katniss felt sharpness seeping into her brain. She was suddenly very aware of the world around her. "What others?"

The color in Lavinia's face seemed to fade, just a little. "Uh - you know. _The_ others."

"_What_ others?" Katniss raised her voice. She had no more patience since she was moved to this secluded corner of the castle. Some days (nights) she didn't even get to see a single soul.

Lavinia's voice was barely audible. "The other girls."

Katniss felt something creeping over her like a shadow. It was a few moments before she spoke. "You mean other lovers?"

Lavinia, who had been very fidgety during these few moments, didn't answer. She didn't have to. Katniss could feel a strange hammering in her chest. It sounded like her heart, but it wasn't exactly her heart. She wasn't sure what it was. Her throat suddenly felt very dry, her limbs very weak. There was lead in her head instead of her brain. It expanded until it felt like it was stretching her skull. She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

"What about his - his - _other_ girls?"

"He...they...oh, Katniss! ...He did away with t-them."

"You mean he killed them?" Katniss was shocked, although she had a feeling she shouldn't be.

Lavinia bit her lip, nodding slowly.

"And you're still loyal to him, Lavinia?!"

"He's fit to be king. He's a good man, Katniss."

"I don't see how a man who murders the innocent is fit to be king, Lavinia." Then again, perhaps the _other girls_ weren't so innocent. A scowl fell across Katniss's face.

"He doesn't. Those people had done something to offend him of his injust past...oh I've said too much!" Lavinia said, looking deeply distressed. "I really shouldn't...I just..."

In Katniss's mind, Lavinia was a nice girl but a naive, clueless one. Still, she was perhaps the only friend she had here in being a prisoner, and sometimes people need other people to talk to. Besides, she was curious to what people could have done to offend him of his injust past (honestly, how much worse was it than her own)?

"What could they have done to have them deserve to die by his hand?"

Lavinia dried her eyes. "Bad things." She got quiet after that.

Glaring, Katniss noticed, for the first time, the two small, glittery boxes she had been carrying along with the scroll. As Lavinia rolled it up, Katniss heard herself snapping, "What do you have with you?"

"I was supposed to read _all_ of that," Lavinia muttered. "Huh? What? Oh, this? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Actually, it's for you. Yes. It's your...evening wear."

Katniss felt her rage returning to her at this point. "I'm really not interested Lavinia, so you can tell your fucker of a king to go fuck himself at the feast."

"I can never tell him that!" Lavinia shrieked, shocked at the language coming from the girl who she'd taken a liking to. _Oh, nuts and volts, _Lavinia thought miserably to herself, _She's being rude, and I still like her, because I think deep down she's a good person. I don't want anything to happen her. His Majesty's kept her alive, but if he ever changes his mind, which he most likely will...and I'll be alone and friendless again. _

Katniss crossed her arms and looked away. "Then tell him I'm not coming to the feast." There was no way she was going, especially since she knew Capitol people were probably going to attend as well.

"But he asked you!"

"And I said no."

"Katniss..."

"No."

"Katniss...please?"

"No." She didn't care for stupid, formal events filled with stupid, formal, horrendous people who'd taken her homeland away from her and gave her to the tyrant of 2.

"It'll be fun. You get to wear a pretty dress and have your hair done up. Oh, wouldn't you like me to do your hair?"

Katniss suppressed a most sarcastic laugh. "Only to be humiliated later on?" She'd been humilated by Cato enough already. He made her hate herself. She wasn't going to be humilated by others, either. Of course they'll want to humiliate her. They didn't care for people from 12. They didn't care shit about anyone but themselves, Capitol and 2. Even if she asked for help, nobody would step in. And she'd probably be punished.

"Katniss." Lavinia kneeled. "Nobody wants to humiliate you."

"What are you doing, Lavinia? Get up!"

"Nobody wants to humiliate you."

"Get up."

"Not until you'll come."

"Why? Why do you want me to come?" And more importantly, why did _he_ want her to come?

Lavinia's voice snapped Katniss out of her reverie. "Because I don't want to see what happens to you if you don't."

"I could give less shit - " Then it struck Katniss. Oh. Her family. Prim. Her lip thinned. "Fine."

* * *

**Katniss First Person Pov**

**I** didn't recognize myself when I gazed into the mirror. The girl in the mirror looked like me but didn't feel like me. Not that her physical appearance was of much help. She was too heavily-made up tonight.

Creamy face covered in powder, liquid-gauzed eyes lined with cool, shimmery stuff and grazed with thick dark lashes. And of course, the lips. The bloated, puckered lips layered with coats of sheen stickiness. I felt like I was glued to a mask, a mask of superficiality that suffocated me until I couldn't breathe.

This wasn't the first time I put on makeup. The first and last time I did was when I was eleven. A few months after my father died, my family and I were pining for the scraps of food I could barely find in the woods. At the time, I was fairly new with using the bow. I could shoot, but it often took me a couple tries and so often it'd be hours until I got home with the small bag of food to ration between three hungry stomachs. One time I was up in a tree, hunting for game. I was a bit careless and before I knew what happened I'd lost my footing and tumbled off. Lucky the forest floor was moist and soft, or else I'd probably have broken something. However, I had landed facedown. My lips were swollen, one eye was purple, there were cuts and bruises all over my face. I couldn't let sweet little Prim see me like that. She'd already seen too much for her tender age, and her heart was too fragile to be broken again.

I snuck into my house - or shack - through my bedroom window before she got home from school, dropped my empty game bag onto the floor, and ransacked through our medicine cabinet. It took me forever, but I finally found the small container. My mother hadn't touched it for years, that was obvious. The concealer was dried, itchy, and little more than powder clinging to the bottom, but it did the trick. I was able to hide my bruises pretty well until they healed. I wasn't much of a healer, but I was determined to keep going. I wasn't ready to let go of life like my mother did.

I made a few promises to myself in the past. I promised myself to never become a mother. Wouldn't it be little more than cruelty to bring a child into a world of corruption, violence, and hatred? Why should my child suffer like I did? I can't answer that question. And that means it's better to have no child. Promise number two: I'll never trust my mother again. I don't want to get hurt again. I've been hurt enough. And the last promise, the promise I've been most determined to keep; my family is my top priority. Namely, Prim. I will do anything and everything I can to protect my sister from the world. She would not go through what I had to go through, ever. Most of the important things in my life have been taken away from me. My family and Gale are all I have left now. Nothing else mattered.

It became a duty to hunt. I didn't realize I was hunting illegally the princess herself told me so. But her father was kind. He'd allow me to hunt - upon the condition that I'd use my hunting skills to help protect the kingdom. It was a fair deal in my mind. Overtime, protecting my people became a privilege to me, just as hunting had. I'd even fought alongside General Haymitch Abernathy a few times. When he wasn't doing his duty, he was drunk most of the time, but he told me washed his sorrows in alcohol. That was understandable. I drained my sorrow in shooting my arrows.

Now, I'm afraid the trace of the once fiery-tempered, warrior-spirited archer is gone. The replacement of a docile girl just isn't the same, even if the docile girl is trying to save her people. Perhaps it's too much for one to do. Perhaps she should stop trying...

It feels like I was slapped in the face. How could I think like that? When Prim and many other people I knew were depending on me? I don't know how I can free them from being prisoners, but the first step is to keep them alive. Which is what I'm doing right now, at the expense of myself.

Me, I break down a little further everyday. I hate myself a little more. I wish there was more that I could do. Fucking 2, betraying the rest of us to the Capitol like that. It really is every kingdom for itself in this mad, mad world. Which gives me ever so much more purpose to avenge my district.

"Katniss?" Lavinia asked as I stared deep into the mirror. "Are you ready for your gown fitting?"

The gown was tighter than anything I'd ever worn. Its corset squeezed my waistline into a tiny, trim thing. The rose-printed material fluttered delicately against my bare legs, making me uncomfortable with its sheer softness. Its sleeves hung off my shoulders. What I really noticed was how the top of my breasts spilled over the low neckline.

"Does it have to be like this?" I frowned as Lavinia brushed my hair.

"Oh, yes, it all must be elegant and fancy," she replied as she worked the strands into a long, thick rich braid.

"I mean, couldn't I wear another dress? One that's a bit...warmer?"

"What's wrong with the one you have on? I think it's very pretty - cream yellow and pale green suits you."

They did, I swallowed, remembering the little summer dress that my father bought me fifteen years ago. I don't know how he managed to do it. I could only hope he hadn't gone to the extreme.

And here is 2, dressing girls like whores and holding crummy feasts to kiss up to big, bad Capitol asses. I gritted my teeth at the nerve of them.

"It's good to see that you're trying to smile," Lavinia said with a smile of her own as she proceeded to wound some sort of stringy ribbon stuff into my hair. If this was any other 2 citizen, I'd spit into their face right now.

"There..." she gave my head a good hard yank. My teeth clenched. "Oh! Almost forgot. I brought something special for you."

I was allowed a brief moment to myself as she strolled over the two boxes she'd brought in. She carried the small one over to my dresser and opened it, delicately peeling the layers of tissue paper away. I felt my breath stolen away as she carefully lifted up a large, shimmering necklace woven of deep blue gemstones. Light danced from stone to stone. The entire necklace seemed to give off some kind of mystical glow, magically enhancing its size.

I let out the breath I was holding. "Lavinia..."

Whose large, hazel eyes sparkled almost as magnificently as the gems. "His Majesty had it made specially for you."

_Oh. _"I wish to send it back."

"Katniss!" Lavinia glanced at me as if I was crazy. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm dead serious," I stated bluntly. I glared at the blue gemstones. Who do they think they are, swinging all their bodies on a chain, dangling in front of me, mocking me? Just like he was?

"Katniss, this was made_ just_ for you."

"I didn't ask for it."

"Oh, Katniss." Lavinia buried her head into her elbow. "Won't you wear it? Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"_Pretty_ please?"

"Letmethinkaboutit. No."

"For me?"

"It's his necklace, Lavinia. I don't want anything of that bastard's." I reached out and swatted just because I could.

The necklace dropped from her hands and clattered to the floor. In a matter of seconds, the beads holding it together bursted and gem pieces flew everywhere. Some even broke into smithereens.

Lavinia dropped onto her knees, hard. Her face was buried into her hands. I heard sniffling - and then crying.

"I..." I began, but I don't know where to begin. How could this have happened? "I didn't mean to."

Lavinia didn't answer. Her sniffles got louder.

A twange of pain wounded itself tightly into my chest. The sound of Lavinia's sobs sounded remarkably that alike of Prim's, and sweet, dear little Prim hardly ever sobbed. Hearing it often made me want to shed tears, too.

I looked at the glinting pieces of jewels, lying all over the room. For some mystical reason, the sight strongly reminded me of a battlefield littered with thousands of bodies, lying in their pools of dried blood. I'm taken aback by the violent thought. Usually, I tried to avoid violence whenever I can. There's just too much of it in this world.

And Lavinia will be punished because I made her drop the necklace - the necklace that could probably feed whole districts for years - the necklace that he got just for me. Innocent, naive Lavinia, who tries so hard to a friend to me here in a place, devoid of hope and home, sweet Lavinia, who is an older version of my sister. I've seen torture. I've seen war. I've seen it all before. None of it suits the stricken young woman in front of me.

I rest a hand on Lavinia's hand - a gentle, soft hand, gentle as I can be. I shuddered upon contact. This was more affection that I'd shown in years to anyone except for Prim.

Slowly, reluctantly, Lavinia peered up at me with her teary face. I swallowed my heart from my throat down into my esophagus.

"I'll come to the feast. I'll explain about the necklace. I'll tell him you left before I dropped it."

In that moment, Lavinia's eyes, puffy and red and swollen from crying, were sparkling brighter than all the gems on the necklace combined.

* * *

**Cato **

**It** is perhaps best said if one declared that the feast was tradition rather than celebration.

Traditon was a big thing in 2, however. The annual feast was all the evidence one needed. Not to mention the lavishly decked dining hall. Hunting trophies were hung with thick streamers and a glittering chandelier. Confetti and rose petals were scattered throughout the hall, adding a somewhat home-y, formal touch. Silky golden tablecloth, sprinkled with sequins that reflected the light of the chandelier, draped over the long table that occupied most of the hall.

It might just have been set for a very extravagant wedding. Hundreds of chairs aligned both sides of the table, leading up to a throne of magnificence at the very end. It towered over the rest, with its ornate armests and legs resting on four lions' paws. The plush seat of velvet embellished into a deep, smooth cypress frame. The crown of the throne was garnished with exotic gemstones and minerals that twinkled like diamonds in a mine. To the right and left side were a pair of smaller, less-luxurious, throne-like chairs. If one looked carefully, the one's to the king's left looked a bit more...snakey. The one to the right wasn't adorned with jewels.

Here's where tradition came into play once again. The higher you rank, the closer you sat to the king. Naturally, one of the servants usually assumed the position at the other end of the table on a long wooden bench shared by other servants, all the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. At least considered in 2.

He could've just stuck Katniss with those dirty rats and forgotten about her, and she was almost guranteed to have a miserable time. He could've just made her sit next to General Brutus or Enobaria, the royal executioner. Both were well known for being loud and eating without utensils. Sometimes, Enobaria ate without chewing. She was a reowned warrior in battle and rather infamous in Panem for tearing apart a throat with her teeth in battle (in which Cato's father had rewarded her by sharpening them into two fangs tipped ing gold). She probably had the most tattoos out of anybody in 2 - perhaps even Panem - excluding the Capitol. Even her gold earring could prove to be terrifying once one saw the way it pierced through her ear.

It was more convenient for Katniss to sit by him, so he could keep an eye on her. He'd heard somewhat about her before the war ended, that she had great archery skills and that she was one of the reasons 12 hadn't fallen by that time. He believed it until he met her. He still believed most of it, but after learning her weaknesses, he thought her very easy to crack down.

One bit tugged at the corner of his mind, though. He wasn't sure why he wanted her to come to the feast. Don't even get him started on the necklace. He told himself that he wanted to get rid of the necklace long ago, but Clove already had every jewel imaginable.

Perhaps because her company is really much more enjoyable than those of the other guests. He'd feel alright keeping an eye on her. Besides, what better way to crush hope of rebellion and set heart in stone than to surround her with the most powerful rulers in Panem - and have every single one of them refuse to help her? Every one of them siding with him and the Capitol?

Lord. Well, at least this was only going to be temporary. After that, it was probably about time to publicly announce his engagement to Clove. Besides, the Engagement Ball that would follow suit had the tradition of being only attended by the citizens living in the bride and groom's own district. That in itself made things better. But nothing would ever be - could ever be - perfect, could it?

This was as close as they were going to get.

Cato sighed. Now it was time for the Royal Fitting into new robes - feast robes that would be discarded and replaced by new ones at this same time next year.

* * *

**Third Person Pov**

**U**pon entrance Katniss wanted to turn around and run right back out. Her stomach swirled, even though it was empty of food. Gazing around, she was loosing her appetite pretty quickly.

The great hall was filled with people and food, lights and fancy clothing, chatter and laughter. Musicians stationed at the end of the hall struck up quite a merry tune - quite too merry for the occasion in Katniss's mind, at least.

She knew from one glance that the freaky-looking people were Capitol. Most of the people with fancy robes, animal furs, and swooshing dresses were citizens of 2, whom made up the majority. And the people who were constantly moving about, the people who looked less relaxed, the people who were dressed in less of a finery, were people from other districts, mainly 1 and 4.

The guards stopped an old woman selling precious gems to the crowd from 1. They collected all the already-sold merchandise from the buyers. They didn't return money.

A handsome man wearing gold robes swooped around and talked to nearly every woman. Katniss's lip curled.

She decided that these people were blunderheaded idiots when she saw the food. Mountains, piled high on every inch of the table. Overflowering platters overlapping each other. Food. There were entire roast pigs, turkeys, chickens, and birds, their mouths stuffed with fowl and fruit. Fern, flowers, fruit, and even jewels floated in tureens of shimmering soup. Giant platters of salads with entire gardens of vegetation sat patiently. Long wooden sticks skewered mushrooms and fresh-looking bits of fish. Garments of onions and herbs sat atop mounds of colorful grain and golden rice. All the little fruity drinks were tipped with tiny umbrellas and the wine glasses and heavy goblets filled to the brim with good, different varieties of wine. Little glass jars were packed with small, sour candy balls sprinkled with sugar. Vases of peacock feathers and small cornucopias filled with bread and rolls served as centerpieces. Of course, rose petals were sprinkled on top of the tablecloth. Some even glistened with dewdrops.

A little drop of drool trickled out of Katniss's mouth. She was brought food by servants, but this food was extravagant food. When could she see food like this again?

Her hunter's instinct told her that this food wasn't going to last forever, that all these people around her were competition for the table. Katniss narrowed her eyes. She spotted the food first! Unlike these idiots, hovering tere and talking shit.

_Get as much as you can before it's all gone. _

She didn't come alone. She had to be escorted by a guard, whose arm she was forced to clutch. He walked her to the very end of the long table near the king's throne in long, demanding strides. They stopped abruptly near the throne. Deciding that she didn't have anything better to do, Katniss sat down in a random chair.

Somebody yanked her up immediately, and a large, harsh hand smacked her in the ass. Katniss let out a yelp.

"Nobody sits until His Majesty 'oes," her unwanted companion snarled into her ear.

Katniss glared at him, resisting the urge to slap a good one across her cheek (after all, he did just slap her somewhere she didn't want to be slapped).

He flashed his gleaming yellow teeth at her, brandishing the tip of the dagger hanging on his belt.

She turned away from him, lips pursed tightly. How she itched for her arrows! She imagined slicing an arrow through his neck. Scratch that, she imagined one sticking out the necks of every one in this room. It dawned on her how violent her thoughts had become - could become. It disgusted her. She was corrupt. She was anger. She was bloodshed.

She was, some may call, a bit lucky. The guard's snakey hands were slowly reaching for an opening of her bosom - and almost succeeded grabbing it - when the trumpets sounded. The crowded, buzzing great hall suddenly dived to attention. The noise died down. Scowling, the guard quickly hurried to his position by the door.

People began shuffling towards their seats, some colliding and lots of shoving. The musicians stopped playing. Every one had an estimate of where they belonged - except for a certain girl supporting a braid.

Realizing that it would be more than awkward if she were standing there alone, Katniss's eyes desparately searched for the only empty seat - which was to the right of the throne at the very end. Heart drumming in her ears, she made her way just in time. Looking around, she realized that nobody was sitting. They must all be waiting for the king.

King Cato entered through the grand double doors. If she had not seen it, Katniss would not believe the magnificence of his entrance.

His body was...practically glowing. Head held high, chest puffed out, taking strides that somehow were graceful and masculine at the same time. His crown sat comfortably on top of his head, gold upon gold. His robes were of a fine purple, deep and rich in hue, billowing and feathery like a cape. Not to mention that you could catch a fine definition of his abs everytime he moved. There was silence to whispering, but Katniss could see the awe and admiration, plain as day, each and every female's face, even the ones who linked arms to a man. She even saw wicked gleams in many pairs of eyes.

Suddenly, the hall was too hot. Way too hot. Katniss wished there was a place where she could cool her face. She wished she didn't have to wear this low-cut dress.

Her scowl latched onto the figure who'd reached the throne. He slowly settled into it, giving off a signal to the hall. They sat down.

Katniss sat down before she was the only one left standing. Her scowl was still attached to her face.

The king didn't look her way, but to his left instead, at the smaller throne implanted with the strange jewels. A thin old man sat there, a man with paper-like white hair, gleaming blue eyes, and a cold smile bracing his lips. One look at the white rose pinned to his expensive clothing and lips that were more puckered than any woman's told her that it was King Snow.

Katniss had heard many things about the ruler of the Capitol. His trademark was the white rose. Now that she saw it in person, it was hard to stop looking at it. A small and delicate shape, it had perfect petals and a pure, perfect color. Though she doubted anything about this man was pure. There was something about his white rose. It was _too_ white, _too_ perfect. As her father always said, perfection only hid imperfection. Not forever, either. She had never spoken to him, never even met him, but suddenly she felt a burning hatred for this man. Her hatred for Cato (did she even hate him?) paled miserably in comparsion.

* * *

**I**n the dungeons, they had heard music. Most of the older knew that the feast was taking place. Pretty much everybody except the sick and hallucinating knew that a celebration was going on. A celebration with food.

Some of the deliriously hungry, their stomaches gnawing at them with pain, reached up and frantically tried to snag the food that was not there with bony, shaking hands. The ones who knew their time was near called out to their loved ones, if they had any left.

Mrs. Everdeen knew that people who at least associated with the people who killed her husband are up there. She knitted her hands tightly together. _Prim, Prim, I love Prim, Prim, my darling, sweet child,_ she repeatedly chanted to herself.

Gale swore that once he got out, he'd kick all their high and mighty asses. He spat on the ground when a Peacekeeper was turned the other way. It made a loud _SMACK._

Prim hummed as she gently rocked a troubled child to sleep, pressing a package of received ice against his forehead. Katniss was even closer to reaching them today than yesterday. And then tomorrow...

* * *

**C**ato and Snow exchanged smiles and formally shook hands. Cato's crown shifted just a little, but Snow's remained firmly in place atop his head (which also reflected the light from the chandeliers, somewhat).

"Highness."

"Likewise."

"It's an honor to finally meet you. My people speak greatly of your name."

"The pleasure is all mine. And likewise."

The hall buzzed once again with low chattering and small talk. Nobody tried to talk to the far away though. People whispered among themselves and to their neighbors. Frowning, Katniss took one of her many spoons laid on the fancy placemat in front of her. She contemplated on the seating arrangement as she turned the spoon over and over in her hand, taking in its design. Why was she seated so close to the king? Even at District 12 banquets (which didn't happen often) people's ranks determined how close they sat to royalty. Katniss knew that She'd dipped it into a nearby bowl of soup when she felt a pair of eyes upon her.

She looked up. Across the table, seated next to Snow, was a young woman with a tumbling dark ponytail and stormy steel eyes. Thin lips pursed tightly, Katniss noticed she seemed to be glaring right at her. Katniss stared back.

After awhile, the woman grew bored and latched her eyes onto Cato again. But that didn't mean every now and then she'd snuck another glance at Katniss.

Katniss felt uncomfortable with her promixity. Though she could listen to conversation this way, she'd rather not. She'd figured a while ago tonight that each of Snow's words were laced with arrogance and hidden, boastful venom. She peered at her own reflection in the bowl.

A bit of powder fell off her face and into her reflection in the steaming bowl of soup in front of her. Feeling sick, she pushed it away.

A couple drops spilled out over the side. Unfortunately, Snow, Cato, and the young woman did not fail to notice. Fortunately, none of them said anything.

Katniss felt that someone's eyes were always lingering on her over-exposed chest. She was so angry that Cato gave her an indecent dress to humiliate her like this, in front of other kings. He really was a man, she thought. She tried to bend her head as she looked down at her plate.

"Hey there, beautiful," a sultry voice whispered into her ear.

Seated next to her was the man who had been walking around talking to women. Unlike the king, he seemed very aware of all the attention he received. Though it didn't surprise Katniss in the least bit. With tousled hair the hue of shiny, brand-new copper, large, gleaming white teeth, aquatic green eyes of which encased the sea, and bronze muscles rippling underneath his rich gold robes, he was what Katniss's mother would call an Adonis.

"It's Adonis, right?" Katniss said, rather snarkily (heartwarming smiles can quickly become quite irritating when they grow too large).

The man's eyebrows flit up in surprise before his smile returned. "Actually, it's Finnick. Prince Finnick, heir to the throne of 4, grandson of the great and unfathomable Queen Mags. But close enough."

"Catchy."

She had surprised even herself with her flirtatiousness (as close as she can get anyways). But then again she'd have never thought she'd be sitting next to the king on a smaller version of his throne wearing expensive slutty clothes and have more food displayed in front of her than her entire life in 12. This world couldn't get any crazier. Still, she didn't appreciate advances from a stranger (hello,_ Cato_) and she didn't open up easy. To make a long story short, Finnick was making her uncomfortable.

She was urging to give those cheekbones a good whack and see how far his head could turn when she felt those green eyes flit downwards to her chest. She leaned closer to the table, head bowed, taking a teensy sip of soup.

"Very hungry, are you, sugar thang?"

She gritted her teeth. "My name is Katniss."

He leaned closer to her with every word he murmured. "I believe I've already introduced myself. It is an _honor_, Katniss." He lightly blew onto her cheek, oh-so-seductively.

Katniss hated to admit it, but it cooled her burning cheek off. Somewhat.

She noticed that Cato was watching them out of the corner of his eye, though he returned to his conversation when she looked over. This was going to be a long night.

Luckily for Katniss, the woman on Finnick's other side striked up a conversation with him. Katniss didn't realize how hungry she was. Reaching for everything around her, she quickly made a big pile on her plate and began stuffing herself.

"This is a very extravagant feast you honor us with, King Cato."

"Quite the more extravagant with your presence, King Snow. You grace us."

"Please, call me Snow."

"Call me Cato."

"Very well then, Cato. Ah," Snow took the moment to spoon a lump of pear onto the end of his spork, "You remind me much of your father."

Katniss didn't fail to notice how Cato's shoulders tensed up, just a little. He quickly forced himself to smile again. "I could never match up to my father's bravery, my dear Snow. But I have every urge to try." (Was it just Katniss, or did she hear something of a challenge in his tone?)

"You do, do you?" (Now, if Katniss's ears weren't deceiving her, she detected mockey this time.) "You are doing a most spectacular job. I was most delighted when I learned you had taken the throne. I imagine Castor would've been proud."

"He would have," the king of 2 said in a collected, almost-forced calm tone, "I, of course, could not have accomplished what I have without the esteemed Capitol's aid. My father has established a most wonderous friendship with your people, my king."

Katniss almost dropped the piece of chicken on her fork. Cato's _father_ arranged the deal between the Capitol and 2?

"Yes, yes, of course, we were most delighted to make your acquaintance." Then Snow and Cato laughed about something, but Katniss didn't know what.

Her attention was focused on the open doors, just like everybody else. In strolled a line of young men and women in white outfits - servers. Smiling, they were carrying huge bundles of even more food to the table.

Katniss wondered if they were forced to smile or if they had been brainwashed. Probably both.

Hmm. Their absurd white caps reminded her of the hats the Mellark family usually wore in their bakery. Speaking of the Mellarks, one of the servers looked quite scarily a lot like their youngest son, Peeta.

Leaning forward in her chair, Katniss squinted. Could it be? Was it? It was!

_It was Peeta._

She had not seen him since the end of the war. Assuming that he'd been captured or dead, she'd lost all thought of him. Guilt consumed her. This boy had saved her and her family's lives before, once upon a time on a rainy day when she was eleven years and had no food, comfort, or hope. The bread he'd thrown her kept them going for another two weeks, when the mercy of spring finally bestowed upon 12.

Her pride had never allowed Katniss to thank him for it - but she knew how kind Peeta was. He took a beating just to give her bread, and she'd heard nothing but good stuff about him. Really, if anybody was flawless and kindhearted in Panem, it was Peeta.

She looked at him as he carried the platter of fresh bread over to the end where she sat.

He scanned the crowd numbly, not caring about a thing -

He saw her. Their eyes met.

They both turned away.

And looked back.

Peeta's eyes were haunting. They suddenly sparkled with the light of the chandelier. Joy and relief and desperation flooded into his blue irises all at once, and Katniss was embarrassed but oh-so-glad to have him here with her, someone from home, someone so kind.

She shrunk a little when she remembered Peeta's occupation. And she felt bad for thinking it, but the truth was the truth. And truth was that Peeta was a sweet baker - probably wouldn't even hurt a fly - and a sweet baker who wouldn't hurt a fly wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she thought Operation District 12 Rescue.

But, it was still nice to see someone from home.

Cato noticed Katniss smiling at a specific servant boy - the boy with the bread, to be exact. The thought had never occured to him before, but one time after an amazing night (though they were all amazing, to be honest, but this particular one was special for its own reasons), Katniss had turned to face him, and she was smiling. She was smiling. It was a genuine, radiant smile of a happy woman, a woman who's pleased, a woman expressing her appreciation. It was a beautiful smile. And as quick as it came, it had left, as if she wasn't supposed to smile. Well, it was understandable, but Cato had never seen her smile like that before, and he'd thought it was beautiful. He'd thought it special - it was flashed at him - just for him - and now she was aiming it at a boy with a greasy apron and flour on his pants?

"Bring me another wine," he called out to the servant - whatever his name was. He noticed the look of slight disappointment flash on Katniss's face as Bread Boy turned around.

The wine was in the cellar - it'd take him a while, at least. Swell.

"Cato?"

"Oh - yes?" Cato turned back to the glinting eyes of King Snow, who was peering at him over the rim of his glass with a look he didn't appreciate too much.

"Did you not hear a word I said, my boy?"

"My most sincere apologies."

"No worries. I will repeat them for you."

Katniss cut herself a loaf of the bread Peeta brought in. It was good, hearty bread - filled with raisins, nuts, and seeds, the same kind that'd saved her life years ago. It was good and delicious and it brought back memories. She devoured the slice and reached for another one. _I bet Peeta made this himself._

"You see, this has been a most delightful year so far. Many spectacular things have happened; among them, our kingdom has been...united."

Cato jammed a piece of the bread in his mouth. It was delicious, damnit.

"I am very pleased with this turnout of events...you and I work well as team, as I did with your father."

Cato swallowed the bread. He wished he had more wine. His throat felt dry.

"The unity of Panem has brought great reaction among our people. We felt it was for the better. However, there has been a few...misunderstandings. Some of us are not quite pleased with the turnout of things. Some of us, in fact, want things to return to the way they were."

Snow paused, and Katniss could've sworn his beady, snake-like eyes inspected her. She shivered inwardly. His eyes looked so much like a snake's, it was a remarkable fit with his personality and tongue.

"As the new leaders of Panem, I feel it is our duty, you and my own kingdom, to show the others where they belong. Put them in their places. Organize a bit. Show them what a great, powerful nation Panem could be...if we all got along. Let them know who their leaders are. Let them have their respect."

Snow raised his cup into the air. "And that is why I propose a toast to the newly, annual Hunger Games Tournament."

Cato raised an eyebrow. "The Hunger Games Tournament...?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked." They clinked glasses and drank, Cato swallowing the last drops of his good wine.

"The Hunger Games Tournament will be an annual event where a male and female between the ages of 12 and 18 are selected to partcipate in a game-like tournament inside an arena. They will battle for honor, glory, and victory among themselves and other obstacles. One will come out victor, and the rest shall...not. Survival of the fittest." Snow drank. "Riches. Glory. Power. For the winner. That way, each one of our lovely districts will have a chance to prove themselves. I believe this shall create a sense of entertainment and a bond between the our new kingdoms."

In a moment of instinct, Cato met Katniss's eye. Only for a moment, but it was enough.

Rage was burning like a flame within Katniss, consuming her from head to toe that very second. Most of the people sitting nearby were listening intently to the kings' conversation. Some stared at Katniss, wondering who she was and why she got to sit so close to the king. She paid no attention to them.

Cato felt an intense feeling burning beneath his physical surface. "You want twenty four teenagers to continue the war that has plagued our country for years?" He wet his lips. Shit!

A smile flitted onto Snow's face. "It's not rather a matter of war, but a matter of game. A sport. A chance. Something to bring our once-separate kingdoms together as we cheer on our favorite tributes."

"You're saying twenty four children give up their lives."

"My boy, we all must make sacrifices to gain the greater good. And it's twenty three, one comes out victoriou sand triumphant. The rest will be at peace. The courage and spirit of those children will be treasured in our memories as heroes who have brought back something to cheer for back in our kingdoms."

"And how shall you proceed with this, my king?"

"I will have messengers travel to all the districts. They will bring flyers and make announcements. There will be a stage constructed in each district. There will be escorts. The arena will be a large outdoor stadium. It is under construction in the Capitol as we speak. It will be ready around June. The names of every citizen 12-18 will be recorded onto slips of paper, and they will be placed into large glass balls. At the Reapings, the chances will be random so everyone has a fair chance." He paused, as if to let everything sink in. "Everything will be put into place before the actual Games start. Until then, my boy, I hope I have 2's support every step along the way, as you have had the Capitol's support with your victory."

Peeta was back with the bottle of wine. When Cato put it down, Katniss snatched it and poured herself a glass. She nearly shoved the burning, spicy, dry liquid down her throat, not caring that it was inflaming her throat.

Snow and Cato toasted again, although this time Cato took a longer time with his drink.

"Of course, my king. It is the least my people and I can do to thank you for everything you and your people have done for us."

Was it just Katniss's imagination, or was the king of 2 gritting his teeth? She'd done it herself so many times so she knew what it was like to speak through it.

Snow's puffy lips stretched as his smile widened the ends of his face. "Marvelous. I knew I wouldn't regret the deal I made with your father."

Cato slipped his hand underneath the table so it wouldn't be seen twitching. He unknowingly brushed against Katniss's knee.

Her leg trembled a little. She poured more wine into her empty glass. She didn't want to eat anything else, not even more of the food the servers had just brought out. Around her, conversation twinkled along with the tinkling of utensils against plates.

Katniss spat her mouthful of wine into her kerchief napkin, then downed the rest of the glass. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

**K**atniss didn't speak when he came in. She laid on her bed, still in her feast dress, not moving. What was left of her makeup remained on her face.

She didn't flinch when his hand reached out. She let him stroke her cheek. Her dark eyes looked into his, then quickly looked away. He didn't try to provoke her. The comfortable silence let them feel the chills of the night.

Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. "Why? Why did you let him?"

"It was a more complicated matter than you think."

Thinking of all those lost loved ones in the war, her rage sparked up again. "So why?! Why did you let him go and do this again? To create another warlike destruction to kill lives?!" She was shouting by now. "_You have my people's support_?_!_"

"WELL, WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" he roared back at her, making her flinch. She quickly straightened herself up as he quickly cooled himself down.

Deep down, she knew it was unfair. She knew it wasn't his fault. She'd been blaming him for something his father had set up all this time.

And then he uttered words that shocked her. "I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect my people. I'm sorry they're going to pay for my father's mistake."

Something about the way he said that made her heart flutter. It was so raw, so genuine that she couldn't blame him anymore. It made him seem vulnerable, and that made him seem human. Katniss couldn't help wondering if this was the real Cato, this one with emotions and feelings in regards to the other power-hungry ruler she thought him to be. Perhaps as a king, he was supposed to keep most of his emotions to himself.

That reminded her of what he said to her in bed a few nights ago: "_We're not so different, you and I. We've never been graced with a second option...we cannot make our own mark without it belonging to someone else._" At first, she had no clue what he was talking about, but now, she had a pretty good guess.

All her life, she's been what others wanted her to be: mother for Prim, caretaker for her mother, charity (as much as she hates to admit it) for Peeta, hunting partner for Gale. Only in the last one did she have some means of being herself. Of course, they didn't ask for it, but she knew they needed her and she accepted that and she loved her family. Yet still, nasty as it sounds, she didn't have much of a choice.

Perhaps, perhaps Cato's life had been similar with hers. Perhaps very similar. Perhaps all his life, too, he had to be something to please everyone else. Maybe they weren't really that different.

"It wasn't your fault." She placed a hand on his shoulder. Admist her thinking, he had laid down beside her on her bed.

He turned to her with a look of surprise gracing his face.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have blamed you..." This usually took away a lot of her pride doing this, but this time, she was determined to go through with it. "...you didn't want this, either."

A reign of silence. He nodded. "Thank you."

Her heart started drumming faster in her eardrum. "I didn't do anything. I should've done something."

"What could you have done?"

"Something...anything. Something to stop Snow." She would've pierced an arrow straight through his neck. Let the Capitol pull their high and mighty asses down when they see their leader with an arrow sticking out from his throat.

"There's no stopping him."

"How do you know? You haven't tried."

"I know more than a girl from 12 does," he sneered.

She glared. "What makes you so sure?"

"The fact that - " Suddenly, he was on top of her. " - we're in this position."

"Oh yeah?" She flipped their positions around so that she was on top.

Cato's face, in spite of himself, broke out into a smile. "You know, for someone in your place, you really have a lot of fire. But not enough."

Katniss was once again underneath him, and this time, he pinned her so she couldn't move. She squirmed around, then dropped down helplessly. "You know, just because I'm from the Seams of District 12 doesn't mean I'm a nobody."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not a skank, whore, slut, beggar, or thief. The usual stereotypes."

"You're not, I'm sure."

She wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not. "And _I'm sure_ you're nothing like your father."

His expression changed. "You insufferable bitch."

"Then why don't you beat me?" she asked him, fire burning in her eyes.

"I should."

"But you don't." She bit her lip. "You just want to keep me nice and pretty and soft for your fantasies."

"Keep your mouth shut on things you don't know, girl," he growled.

"I know more than you think I know."

"Listen. I've been to more places than you've ever dreamed, seen more than your little mind can take. How about you hold your tongue next time, you little girl."

Furious, she scrambled up. "I am not some little girl! For your information, _Your Majesty_, I have been places and I have seen real live shit," she spat venomously, particulaly the _Your Majesty_ part.

He snorted. "So you have."

"You don't even know." She turned her head to the side, her nose was in the air. She looked anywhere but him.

"Oh, by the way, I dropped the necklace you gave me. Shame."

His expression didn't change. "I was wondering why you weren't wearing it."

"I hated the dress you made me wear, people were giving me these looks."

"Were they?"

"Yes! And it's all your fault. By the way, the Capitol people looked like freaks with their hideous fashion."

He suppressed a thin-lipped smile. "You're lucky I didn't dress you in one of those."

She snorted. She couldn't help it. "I guess, but I'm not a pet for you to play dress-up with."

He was silent for quite awhile. Such a while that Katniss began to get uncomfortable at the nothingness, and decided to sneak a glance at him. In the dim moonlight, his silohuette appeared to be a chiseled statue of a man. He appeared somewhere else, somewhere far away. His eyes, shining, were set onto something in front of his face, but there was nothing there. She could see the great contrast between his pupil and eye.

She turned away again. There was nothing for her there.

He broke the silence. "When you tossed your head like that, it reminded me of my mother," he said in a very quiet voice.

Surprised at the personal comment, she turned and set her eyes on him. "Why?"

"She used to toss her head the way you do." She could swear that he had an almost-faint, sad smile gracing his face.

"Used to?"

"She doesn't anymore. It's not important." He shifted his position, sitting cross-legged. Katniss didn't know that he'd sit cross-legged. "Your mother, she was good to you, I assume."

His comment shocked her. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a putdown. It was personal. It was...touchy. It was unfamiliar. And Katniss did not trust the unfamiliar. "Why should you care?" she narrowed her eyes.

His voice was one of indifference. "Why not?" But it was very different from his expression.

She didn't know what to say to that. Her mind was scanning for all the benefits he could gain from knowing this. Nothing came up.

There was just something so very rather masculine radiating off of him. And it attracted. And glowed a glow only she could see.

He suddenly pulled her in to kiss her, but she swatted off his attempts. He looked at her, eyebrows raised, and then anger began to overtake his features.

"When my mother shut down, I couldn't just sit there and watch my Prim starve. I had to feed us." Her voice dropped. "They were all I had in the world."

He listened. He was quiet. The anger faded.

"And many more have less than I do. So many other girls did this, what I do with you, at home for a hunk of bread or a meager handful of grain or maybe a couple dull coins." After a moment's pause: "I'm really no better than them, am I?" It's not a question, she thought bitterly.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Fire Girl." He had a little smirk to go with his voice, if she'd just look up.

She did, a second later, surprised by what his reply. "Oh, really? What makes me different from your typical starving, wasted-away Seam slut?"

He looked at her with...possibly admiration shining in a corner of his eye?

"Because unlike them, you've got balls."

Katniss's eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm a woman," she said through gritted teeth.

"You've still got balls."

"You haven't got any."

He was immediately onto her. His eyes, glinting with amusement, might have been mistaken for a dangerous flash. "What did you say?"

"I said you ain't got balls."

His hands closed around her throat. "Careful," he crooned, soft but deadly spine-chilling into her ear, "I can show you I got balls."

She stared at him. She couldn't help it; a surplus of laughter rang out from somewhere in the back of throat. She tried to cover her face.

"You had candy - _sherbet balls_ - at the feast." Big, fat sherbet balls that melted into sugar crystals in one's mouth, with a layer of sour tang coating the outside. They were in the little glass jars. "You had _sherbet balls_ while the rest of my people starve?"

"Sherbet balls are for the enjoyment of 2's citizens and their children. If you want some balls, Fire Girl, you can suck on mine."

He smirked as Katniss's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe how poised and sophisticated he had seemed at the feast. Was he fooling his people all this time?

"What's that, Fire Girl? Thinking about it?"

She shot a scowl at him. "Just because I'm from District 12 doesn't mean I'm a whore."

"The majority of your kingdom is."

She balled her fists. "They had to find some means to get by. They wanted to survive." She couldn't believe she was defending those kind of people, but glancing at the towering figure over her, she thought, _At least they're from my kingdom. _" As I said earlier, just because I come from 12 doesn't mean I'm a certain nobody. I can't...I can't help where I'm born. And unlike so many others, I found my own way to survive."

It got quiet for a moment before, "And what was that, Fire Girl?"

She got rather red in the face before replying. "T-to w-whore my body out to you. But I'll n-never give you _me_. Never."

He didn't reply.

She would wonder (more often than she'd like to admit) if he came for reasons other than he could. He was a big guy with a big physique, and it would be relishing if she, always deemed small and weak, could please a man like him. She would never, ever in a million years voice this to him nor any other soul.

She discovered that she liked his big hands holding her hips, his large, warm body pinning hers down.

"I could beat you into submission."

She jerked her head up to look at him.

"I could touch you until your lips spill my name." She shivered.

He leaned down to whisper into her ear. "I could fuck you so hard that you forget who you are."

A small whimper that she'd been holding back escaped from her lips. He smiled.

"You want me to do that? You'd like that?"

Katniss, whose brain had been melting ever since he pinned her down, could only nod. She'd already lost her virginity to him, so what mattered anymore? Here was someone who could make her feel good. Here was someone who could make her feel heavenly, if only for a few minutes. She wanted to feel good, just because in most of her life she hasn't. She needed a way to let go of everything that had happened. She didn't need to remember the pressure she was under or the Hunger Games that Snow was going to force upon them. She wanted to enjoy herself...just once. She wanted a chance to be herself. And hate it or love it, admit it or deny it, Cato was currently the only person she could be herself with. (And she was pretty sure at this moment, she didn't hate him.)

Clothing had to be taken off. He tugged out her braid and her hair tumbled down her shoulders in waves and he ran his fingers through it, pleased that it was still soft. She did the same to his hair, surprised (and pleased) to find no traces of the goopy gel Gale sometimes used (when he could afford it). She stopped him when he reached to peel off her dress; instead, she crawled to the edge of the bed and stood up. She turned in a full, slow, lazy circle as her hatred dress finally fell into a heap at her feet. She stood with her legs apart, showing off the lacy turquoise lingerie that had been hidden underneath unwanted frills.

Cato felt all the blood surging to his groin. He groaned in the back of his throat as his eyes greedily took in every inch of her.

Katniss remembered the young woman whose glare penetrated her at the feast. The flirty, handsome man sitting next to her. The coldness of Snow's expression. She could still taste the hot, burning wine in her mouth."I wore it...just for you." She said, almost shyly.

He looked at her in too-good-to-be-true surprise. He was a goner. It activated the emotional center of his masculine brain. Nobody had ever done this for him before. Not one single person. He suddenly found that he appreciated her here, so much.

When Katniss looked into Cato's eyes, they were no longer the regular icy blue. Their shade had evidently darkened to a midnight-blue. Katniss wet her chapped lips, feeling the wetness gather between her legs.

Niether of them moved. They were each waiting for the other to make a move. They each wanted to be the dominant one, the stronger one.

She slowly began peeling off her bright turquoise panties, making a show not to go too quick. They slid bodily down her thighs, got stuck at her knees. She shifted. They slid all the way down.

Cato, who'd set his crown and cape to the side, tossed his own robe to the side after stripping them off. She appreciated the view of his muscular upper body, he knew. He also knew that she apprecaited his lower body more than she'd like to admit. He took off his pants.

She swallowed. Even doing this, he was so...royal. Like the way he did things seemed like the way a king would. But he was a king. Oh, whatever the heck she just thought didn't make any sense.

He slipped off his underwear. Okay, things didn't _have_ to make sense. They were actually okay the way they were.

When she fumbled with unclasping her bra, he lost it. Jumping up, he was behind her in nearly two or three strides. She gasped as his large hand possessed her large garment of clothing, ripping her small hands away.

"I've had enough - I can't fucking wait any fucking more - " his fingers were clumsy, so instead he just snapped her bra in half. She gasped as his mouth attacked her neck - collarbone - lips - everywhere. They stumbled to the bed, and she was pushed back onto it.

The mattress was a good mattress, she could tell, because it did not complain when he pounced on her. Both of them gasped as their bodies met.

She pressed herself against him, making him moan. She needed him inside her so badly - oh so badly. But he had other ideas. He brought himself close to her opening, as if he were about to plunge in, she waited, gazing hungrily, intrigued, impatient, excited, and he brought it into contact with her opening and she moaned and he pulled away.

He did a few times before she couldn't stand his teasing anymore. She had to have her needs fulfilled right now. Half blinded with want, she tried to grab him and and push him inside her.

His hand latched itself around her wrist, and he squeezed - tight. He used this moment to surprise her by slipping a couple fingers into her hot, bursting center.

He got a cry elicited from her. Smiling, he began stroking her and accelerating the pace of his fingers, faster and faster. His mouth found hers - lips crashed against one another - tongue slipped into mouth - bit down on a lip - words weren't needed.

The warm feeling tension up between her thighs was so close to releasing itself until he pulled out his slick fingers. He thrusted her panties back onto her to control himself. He broke their kiss to taste her essence. She whimpered at her loss.

He offered her his fingers and she sucked on them, tasting herself. Her lips tasting herself around his fingers, her eyes looking innocently at him, this was all too much for him to take. His bulge swelled in size until it was pressing against Katniss. Her center made contact with it, and they both gasped.

"Please...I can't t-take it anymore..." she pleaded with him, trying to grind into him. He growled and shoved her off of him. She landed at his side with a yelp. Once more he was on top of her, and once more he was sucking and biting her neck.

"Do you see now, Fire Girl? Do you see how I'm in charge?"

She whimpered for reply. He wasn't satisfied. Kissing his way down her chest, he made his way to her breasts. Cupping one in each hand, he caressed and fondled and kneaded them, her ongoing moans music to his ears. She arched her body up to meet his - arched it slightly off the bed so that she was offering her breasts to him.

He was rewarded with euphony and her with bliss as he worshipped her breasts. If anything, it almost seemed like the gesture of lovers.

Honestly, he was going to go crazy soon. "Tell me, Fire Girl, does this feel good?" His voice came out a bit hoarse and raw and thick.

Opening her eyes, Katniss saw that the hue of his eyes were now almost black. She guessed that hers would look about the same. She nodded her approval.

He took his mouth off her. "Not good enough. I want to hear you say it."

"It feels good."

"Say it again. Louder."

"It feels good!"

He kissed his way down her torso, over her stomach. There was no room for light, feathery, butterfly kisses here tonight - just a mixture of primal urge and raw desire and lusty passion.

She spread her legs wide, as far as she could when he finally reached the place that ached the most. Her panties were soaked. At this point, it didn't matter what she had to do in order to gain what she urgently needed.

"Touch me anywhere, everywhere. Tonight, I'm yours." But tomorrow, she'd go back to being her good self again. Tonight, though, she was an enigma, a flame that could not be put out, and he was the fuel to her fire.

Cato groaned against her when he felt how wet she was. She was so frustrated - she _needed_ what she needed and now! He blew gently at her and she trembled when his tongue flicked out to her sensitive rosebud and swirled.

He teased her until she was ready to wrap her small hands around his throat and choke him. He was on the verge of going mad himself. Finally, he gave her what they both craved. Finally they met, Katniss's heart thumping in joy.

The mattress wasn't doing well this time. Intertwined, they were one. She found that she yearned for his touch, whimpered for more, even begged.

"Harder." she whispered at one instance.

"What was that?"

"Harder."

"And who are you speaking to?"

"You, I'm speaking to you!"

"Say my name."

"Cato."

"Louder."

"Cato!"

"LOUDER!"

"CATO!"

"I want not only to hear you say my name, but to scream it. Scream. Or I'll put right out."

"CATOOOOooooooOOOOOOOOO!"

It was the most intense and satisfying one she'd had yet. And it was long. Her nails clawed into his back, her arms gripping his shoulder for support. He did the same to her. In the background, they had the fireplace crackling softly. Candlelight flickered and their shadows danced on the wall.

They collapsed on top of each other, completely boneless.

* * *

**Clove**

"He said he might come tonight!" Clove shouted, throwing down her cutting knife and the half-finished, almost-destroyed pear she'd been working on. "I. Don't. See. Him!"

Lavinia bowed on trembling knees, almost knocking over one of the apples in the basket she'd brought in. "Y-Your M-Majesty, he said h-he might - "

"THEN WHY DIDN'T HE?!"

Lavinia wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. "Well he's started visiting you more than Kat - I mean - _oh no_!" She clapped a hand to her mouth, but it was too late.

"_He what_?"

"Nothing - "

"He_ what_?" she hissed through her bared teeth. Her two fang-teeth glinted as she stalked foward in menacing steps. "Who was that girl at the feast? The one with the braid?! YOU USELESS MORON! TELL ME WHO THE HELL _IS_ SHE?!" She shook the servant girl until her teeth rattled. "AND WHY WAS SHE IN MY SEAT?! AND WHY DIDN'T HE DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!"

"K-K-Katniss, Your Ladyship," squealed Lavinia.

Clove's dark eyebrows arch up. "That sounds familiar..." she hissed. Thoughts jumbled around inside her head. "Is she from 2?"

Lavinia looked down at her feet. How she wished she could just disappear! _I'm too cowardly,_ she thought, tears prickling in her eyes. _I truly am sorry, Katniss._

"IS SHE FROM 2?!"

"No." The whisper was so delicate, it could be carried away by one sweep of a breeze.

"_I will only ask you this once, so hear. Me. Out._ _What district is she from?_"

"Uvelf."

"WHAT?'

"12."

Clove was silent.

Then she screamed.

Lavinia scurried out, the vase just missing her head. It shattered into smithereens that didn't even glint.

* * *

**K**atniss's eyes popped open, adjusting to the darkness around her. She felt around for Cato. Not here. She sighed, turning to the side. What's this? A blanket? She didn't remember any blankets.

She didn't even know if she could describe the night. It was so raw and so intense. Definitely the best. For once, she didn't have to pretend. For once, she didn't have to make a deal (even though this was part of it?). What she experienced was so real and...passionate.

She'd felt like herself, even though she had been so_ unlike_ herself. When did she ever flirt? When did she ever tease?

That's right. Never.

Still, everything had felt so right. It all...clicked into place, as if she knew exactly what to do, exactly what she wanted, and exactly how to gain it. That scared her, but it was something to be glad about it. There was still some of the old Katniss inside her, the Katniss who could take care of the people around her.

She took care of Cato, didn't she? And Cato was a king! Perhaps a tyrant (not as much as she had thought), but still, she managed to pleasure a _king_. Knowing the glances from the women today, he was unreachable, a dream many females yearned for but could never reach. And Katniss, a girl from the Seam in 12, has something that nobody else has.

Or she'd like to think.

Her thoughts kept on flashing back to when she'd been angry at him, and he was frustrated with her and seemingly everything else in the world, and the Hunger Games loomed like a shadow of despair over their heads, and he couldn't do anything about it, and he was trying to save his people, and she blamed him...his vulnerability at the moment was incredible. She hadn't much time to ponder over it, really, but now that she was by herself in the middle of the night...it became vivid and amazing and a haze to her. So he has feelings after all. So he was human. And he was trying to protect his people. He really was. _"You're saying twenty four children give up their lives."_

Snow was the real tyrant.

Her cheeks burned. What was she trying to go on about here, exactly? Why couldn't her thoughts stray from him...his hardened jaw set, his lashes that surpassed some of the women's, the intense gaze of his eyes even when they're clouded with lust, and brows that furrowed or jumped or raised depending on whatever he was feeling at the moment? Where was he now? And why is she up in the middle of the night, thinking these weird thoughts?

She huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. She needed to get up. She needed to get out. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she quickly remembered that she was naked. Throwing the blanket off her, she quickly slipped into a thin nightgown she conveniently kept by the foot of her bed. Braiding her messy hair, she noticed that the blanket had a rather lovely rose pattern representing the hues of sunset. Oh. So Lavinia had come by. Well, that was nice of her.

Then she remembered that no one else had the keys to her tower except for him.

Oh. Well...that was nice. He'd smelled nice, too. Musky and -

What the hell was wrong with her? She needed air. But it wasn't like that she could roam wherever she wanted to. The door to her tower was always locked. Always.

Still...who would it hurt to try? After she finds it locked, she could pace around the room, maybe watch the fireplace smolder. Or she could sit by the window and gaze at the stars. She rarely had the opportunity in 12.

She grasped the doorknob. Even though she thought she knew the outcome, something inside tugged at her. So her hand turned the knob.

It wasn't locked.

The door swung open, revealing the faint but inviting glow at the end of the long hallway.

* * *

**To make up for the month, I decided to give you guys a LONG chapter, longer than what I usually do. So tell me what do you think? What do you think Clove is going to do about this? What do you think Katniss thinks about this? Why do you think Cato visits Katniss even though he's engaged to Clove? And oh no, oh no, Snow's tournament sounds A LOT like the Hunger Games! It basically is. They're going through a lot of crap I'm throwing at them, aren't they? (If you think that's bad, wait till next chapter lol). What am I trying to hint at, giving all these subtle little clues? **

**By the way, thank you, thank you for all the lovely things you complimented about my writing. It's not the fanciest nor most sophisticated, but I try to make it fit the story. In this particular story, I try to make the third person narrator a little satirical, maybe even sarcastic. I don't know if you've noticed, but I tried lol.**

**I know I may not deserve them, but reviews are REALLY appreciated because they let me know what you think and they're motivating and inspiring. They inspire me to update a little faster. If you like reading my story, well, I LOVE reading your reviews. A simple 'update' is cool, but it'd be sincerely nice if you'd let me know you dropped by, and told me what you think of the chapter and what the chapter made you think.**

** So what is it, my readers? Do you wish to continue reading?**

**P.S. If you have a comment about this story or would like to drop me a note, feel free to review or PM me. I don't bite (too hard anyways) lol. Oh, and just a little notice, but I think you'd like to review on the next chapter! :)**

**The patient reviews of last chapter: nsheldonb, catniponfire, Guest 2/20, heyomyfellowreaders101, muggle39, wolfshifter1001, rayleen14, sariko-chain 723, hookedonpeeta, guest 2/20 #2, dragonflame, sundragons9, thepinkmartini, abigail25, vampirebooklover09, firework7, kolly, monkeygirlalli, Guest 3/12, Guest 3/14, sweet-mcloin, Guest 3/21, Mercedes 3/22, you are all the most amazing people ever and I really appreciate what you do, love you all 3 **

**Guest as of 3/21, thank you, you have no idea what that meant to me. You really helped inspire me to keep going and to get up when I was pushed down**

**monkeygirlalli Oh my goodness...**

**thepinkmartini- Thank you, what I was going for, actually. You never fail to amaze me with your kind reviews**

**sundragons9 You're right, Cato has no idea. And that Snow is really a snake, isn't he?**

**sariko-chain 723 Thank you, thank you, thank you! **

**And hey, what's the perfect ending to an author's note than a sneak preview at coming chapters? ;)  
Let me know what you think of it...**

* * *

**Sneak Preview #1**

She buried her face inside her hands, but tears still escaped. "He meant everything to me."

* * *

**Sneak Preview #2**

He pressed the blade further into my throat, and I could hide my horror no longer as I see the pool of growing redness seeping onto the knife.

* * *

**Sneak Preview #3**

"Did he do this to you? No? Well then who did this?! TELL ME WHO DID THIS!"


	9. Meat

**I finally did it! I finally finished this chapter! I apologize sincerely, guys. April was a hectic month for me. May wasn't very flowery either. Did it really take me three months to finish this chapter? **

**But I have some good news for you at the bottom! **

**I think this was the chapter many of you were expecting. Or maybe not. I got sidetracked a bit, but now I'm pretty much on track. Still, so many questions, so little time. This chapter will change a lot of things. **

**WARNING: Dark scenes, warning just in case. Remember the setting of this story is in a place where war and cruel deeds are common.**

* * *

**H**er footsteps were soft, silent, almost nonexistent. The faint whisper of light called out to her, beckoned to her as a hand with silent curving fingers. She stumbled down the small flight of stairs outside her tower. She almost tumbled off into the dark depths below at one point. Wrapping her arms around her thin clothing, she cautiously tiptoed onto the other platform of the main castle. Safe.

Well, maybe not. She'd heard some very vicious stories about what goes on in castles at night. Servants haunt the halls. People sleepwalk. Sleepwalkers attacked people without knowing it, but with their eyes still open. Guards did terrible things - and got away with it.

Shivering, she lightly stepped into the indoor hall. It was a little warmer inside, but not by much. Oh, did she have half a mind to turn around and go back to her tower.

_You're acting like a child! _She thought angrily to herself. _A frightened, weak child who can't take care of herself. And you're not._

With each step echoeing down the empty hallway, her heart pounded faster, louder. Every shadow at one point looked it was about to sprout eyes, white eyes to contrast its blackness, and it was about to leap out and attack her...any moment now...

The light at the end seemingly shrunk. Katniss tried to focus her mind on other things.

What in heaven was Peeta doing at the feast? Was he with the small group from 12 that survived and were now rumored to be in hiding? Did he know where they are? Was he here, then, to work for them? Was he to rescue his people? Her heart brimmed with longing for 12. Home. In ruins. Home.

And the Capitol was behind it all.

How she hated the Capitol - hated it more than she hated anything else living on this planet. Except for their dreadful ruler, King Snow - she hated him the most of all. So many were lost in war. So much corruption and death. She'd seen it before her very eyes, heard with her own ears. Done it with her own hands. Yes, she'd fought for 12 before alongside General Abernathy. Yes, she'd shot people - but for self-defense. She shot animals - she needed to survive. But that was it. She relished the bow, relished the way the arrow striked from her fingertips, swift and light and powerful. She didn't relish what came after shooting it. Death wasn't games and fun.

And now Snow was going to take twenty-four lives, the lives of young children, and screw them up. Twenty three would be dead, and the one living wouldn't have a very clean conscience to live with afterward. The Hunger Games Tournament sounded like another horrible torture to keep the districts in conflict and apart.

Maybe that was what Snow wanted all along. Maybe he wanted them to destory each other. Beg for mercy from him as the district kingdoms crumble and fall apart, and the Capitol will rise above. Suddenly there were knots in her stomach. Suddenly the air grew very cold.

Goosebumps dotted her skin. Something prickled on her neck. A drop of cold sweat.

She sneezed.

The shadows on the walls came alive. She started running.

People's faces appeared in her mind - nameless faces that she didn't know, but somehow her conscience told her that they suffered death at the mercy of her hands - indirect or not. One by one, their faces were replaced with arrows...and they all were barreling towards something she cherished the most.

Katniss was not having a dream. Turn after turn. One passage after another she ran down. The conscience of war found a victim in everybody, especially participants.

She ran until she had to stop for breath. She ran until she could not run anymore.

Perhaps this was a bad idea, sneaking out by herself in the middle of the night. Coincidences only happened in storybooks, what was her chance in finding her family and then escaping uncaptured with her district? What was she thinking? She didn't know where she was. She didn't know how to go to anywhere. If he found her, he might punish her, or worse. If someone found her, they may bring her to him. If no one found her, she may be lost for who-knows-how-long.

_Stop thinking nonsense, dumbass, _Katniss told herself as she began retracing her steps. _Concentrate. You've come too far to back out now._

As good as the huntress was among greenery, she had no skills within a building of stone and turrets. Katniss was utterly, hopelessly lost.

She wanted to scream. She would've, but at the last second she controlled herself. She didn't want the whole castle to wake up. One particular person, especially, if he even slept at all. By himself. She scoffed.

Katniss turned right at the corner, although she wasn't sure if she had came from the right or not. This hallway looked rather unfamiliar, being made of wood, but it did have a certain feel to it...and there was a faint light at the end of it, coming from behind fancy, gilded doors.

Upon seeing those doors, she probably would've turned away if she weren't panicking. But here she was, lost and panicked and drenched with cold sweat. She yearned to quickly get to warmth.

She stopped when she was right in front of the door. She could hear faint noises inside it, although she couldn't deduct what - or who - they were. What were the chances that it wasn't an occupied room but still had a fireplace? What were the chances that somebody wasn't behind the door?

And there were so many possibilities of who it could be. She hugged the

She turned around and began walking, trying to retrace her steps. Unfortunately for Katniss, her left foot landed on the creakiest part of the hall. She jumped at the sudden noise breaking the silence. And made another, louder creak on the floor.

The door flew open. "WHO DARES DISTURB MY - "

Whirling around, Katniss found herself face to face with the maiden from the banquet.

* * *

**Cato**

King Cato liked his sleep.

The toil of the day can seem like it's going away when he's lying down comfortably without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He can go anywhere he wants in his dreams, do anything he'd like to do. Freedom. He found freedom in the land of dreams, in soaring flight.

Yet tonight he could not sleep. Whether it was the faint crackling of the fire mantle or the chirping of crickets, he could not sleep. The silvery moon shone down its concern, only to be ignored by his drawn curtains. Even the paintings of the mountains and landscapes and gardens around him didn't take him anywhere but his bedroom.

He sat in an armchair by the fire, his eyes glazing dreamily into the dancing flames. His mind was plagued by something, and though deep down he knew what it was, he did not wish to acknowledge it. So he pretended he didn't know what was troubling him.

But he did.

He couldn't sleep, so he sat up in bed, cursing her name.

Moonlight peeking out beneath the heavy, drawn curtains smiled faintly at him.

He cursed her.

The gold-gilt frames of his paintings seemed to emit a faint glow in the darkness.

He cursed her.

His marble fireplace smoldered with faint red coals.

He made up his mind. The Girl on Fire would be getting a visitor tonight.

* * *

**Katniss First Person Pov**

"Who're you?" snapped the girl, her face half shadowed by candlelight, looking as if she were a ghost.

I was at a loss for words for someone who had never believed in ghost stories before. But this somehow was much, much scarier, even though she wasn't any taller than me. Not that I'd acknowledge it at the moment. If I turn around in a surprise sprint, maybe she won't follow. I know I'm faster than most of the girls in 12, Seam and Merchant alike. I could...maybe she'd think it all a dream. Or maybe this was a dream I'm having. Some dream, more like a nightmare.

"So it's _you_!" she growled, thrusting her light in front of my face. I recognized her at once. She was the dark-haired woman at the feast. The one who glared daggers at me. The one who often glanced from Cato to me. She reminded me of snarling like a bulldog with its lip pulled back.

"Who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

The witchlike-woman sneered, baring a mouth full of sharp, small bulldog-like teeth. "Bitch, you dare to smack talk your future queen?"

Now I was furious. I've been called a lot of different things before and they usually didn't faze me, depending on who said them. But I was lost and I was taken as a prisoner and now somebody from 2 who I didn't know had called me a bitch, and that was too much for me.

It came so quick that I didn't even realize I'd done it until I heard the smack. When I met her eyes, they were burning like stones in hell. Her teeth gritted, she raised a hand to her cheek.

"_How dare you slap me_," she hissed. I admit I'm rarely afraid of anyone, but if looks could kill, I'd be dead. This woman had the glare of a venomous snake. It would've been less spookier if she had screamed instead of using a soft but menacing whisper.

Something crept over my mind that minute. "Queen?" I blinked. I had never heard of a queen from 2. The last one (asI recalled) died years ago.

"Yes,_ queen, _you raging bitch_,_" the woman snarled, taking slow steps forward, "Cato and I have been engaged for about a year. Our wedding day will be announced soon."

I flashback to when somebody had once poured ice water on me. I relive the moment.

"How come you don't know? Oh yeah, you're nothing more than a common rat from your shit of a district." And with a swing of her arm she slapped me sharply across the cheek, hard.

The momentum of her palm with my cheek sends me reeling back. I stumbled, my legs sore from Cato.

If I had been thinking properly, I would've turned and ran from her as fast as my legs could carry me. Yet I did not take kindly to being slapped, especially from a strange, crazy woman.

Numb. I am numb with anger. "Who are you and why do you call yourself queen?" I picked myself off the floor and crossed my arms, glowering daggers at her. Another time I wish I had my arrows with me.

I didn't expect her to grab me by the collar. I didn't expect her to suddenly slam me against the wall. For a fraction of a second, for a tiny, tiny fraction, a glimmer of (not fear, never fear) uncertainty must have shone in my eyes. Then I hardened my expression, my gaze steely once again. Her expression narrowed, and she slammed me into the wall again and again.

"How - " Her breath, it was terrible. "Dare - " Her yellow teeth bared, inches from my face. "You - " When she gnashed her teeth, the noise made my head spin in circles. "Question - " She suddenly stopped slamming me, but in no way did she loosen her grip on my collar. Her eyes burned into mine. She seemed to be thinking hard.

I used to think that Cato had the iciest, coldest eyes I had ever seen but now I am not so sure. The supposed queen's eyes were a stormy shade of grey. Her eye whites were plagued by tiny flashes of red and dark shadows circled underneath her eyes. She reminded me of a Seam girl that did not sleep for days.

If she was a man, I could easily catch her while she was off-guard. But women had their own weaknesses.

She opened her wide mouth again to say something unpleasant. I spat my gob into her face.

She stopped mid-blink. She screamed, letting go of me to wipe at her face. Her scream sent chills down my spine. It sounded like somebody was bloody being murdered. It sent me so far on the edge that I spat at her once more, and in the moment she reached up with both hands to wipe it, I delivered a punch straight to her (exposed) cleavage, a blow that soldiers often practiced on the battlefield.

I'm sure her screams could've pierced straight through hell.

Holding a hand to my stinging cheek, I ran. I didn't look back.

* * *

**Katniss First Person Pov**

One hall after another. They all looked the same. All looked the same. All looked the same. But I had to keep going. I had to get away from that mad woman.

Mad woman or not, what have I done? Even if she was the royal madwoman, she held an important place. She sat practically next to the king at the feast, only second to me. What kind of power did she hold? Was she powerful enough that she could order people to hurt Prim? What was her reason for hating me? Because I sat closer to Cato than she did?

But that mustn't be it. She's not the queen. There is no queen. There hasn't been a queen in 2 for nearly seventeen years. Queen Mirabelle was the last of them. So the bitchy woman could not be a queen. She was lying to unhinge me. That was it. I didn't give two shits if she was queen - I didn't give shits if her king was doing things behind her back, they were all demented and heartless here in 2. But if the demented woman _was_ somehow telling the truth, then I've practically screwed Mom and Prim. _No! _I fiercely tell myself. That woman wouldn't even know they were related to me, would she? She wouldn't go babbling to Cato - or vice versa.

The night overturned my tired mind with crazed thoughts.

I hate them, I lamented to myself as I ran for my life. I hate them all. I hate District 2, land of barbarity, land of traitors. And who the fuck decided that the fucking halls all needed to look the fucking same?

I knew trouble was approaching when I heard running feet behind me, slapping the cold stone floors like my own fleeing feet. Making an effort to run quieter, I silence my breathing and only allowed myself to breathe through my nose. Warrior tactics and hunting instinct may save one's life even indoors.

It was the quiet, shadowy corner that threw me off. It tricked me with its elusive darkness, its crafty shadows hiding a guard. This one was silent and sneaky, and when I glanced back to see if anyone was behind me and didn't look where I was going, I ran into him - straight into the arms of trouble.

He grabbed me tightly. "Gotcha!" He declared, triumph shining in his eyes. I screamed and kicked at him all the while mentally cursing myself. (The other guards will know where I am now, but why did it matter - I was already caught.)

A giant, gloved hand wrapped around my mouth and all I can think is how one of my primary breathing functions is being blocked off by something that could've recently contacted blood before - another's blood. This inspires me to bite down as hard as I can. A moment later my cheek is stinging from being slapped twice tonight.

"That'll teach ya to mess with me, bitch," snarled the guard, his foul breath invading my ear. I struggled and lashed and kicked and squirmed, trying to loose his grip on me. Instead, he pulled me so that I was face to face with him.

I was looking into the pair of brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. (Cato's eyes were also blue, but they were an icy blue.) This man's was electric-blue and bright, way too eerily bright. He smiled slowly, a predatory-like grin emerging from yellow teeth.

"You must be that girl from 12 everyone was a'blubberin about. They said you was so good-looking you caught the attention of the king himself."

One hand held both of my wrists together, so that I couldn't punch him. He tilted my head so that my neck was exposed to him. He leaned closer and then his tongue flicked out, lapping at one of the many noticeable hickeys you-know-who had left behind. My heart started hammering in my chest. Bile rose up in my throat. Not this again...not again...

"I didn't believe 'em at first. But right they were, you are mighty pretty..." His teeth clamped down on a sensitive part of my skin, drawing a gasp from me. "For a girl from 12." He smiled.

As I was about to go into hysterics, a series of footsteps and voices suddenly approached us. Light from lanterns flooded over us, and the relief I felt when the guard drew his mouth from my neck was indescribable.

"So this littl' bitch was sneaking around the night," snarled one with a large, droopy mustache that suddenly reminded me of one of Lady's gifts she'd leave behind whenever she pleased (Lady was Prim's goat that we could not take with us).

"Daring to talk smack to our queen, serves her right," spat another guard with fiery hair. He reached for my arm, but the big guard holding me pulled away.

"I caught 'er, so I take 'er to 'is Majesty," he barked at the other two. (I tried to bite him, kick him, anything, but his grip was starting to affect my blood flow.)

The other two hogs looked at each other, then shrugged and carried on. One of them tossed him a lantern, then strolled away in the most casual of walks.

He and I watched them disappear down the hall. I felt his bright eyes staring down at me, like a cat peering at prey through darkness.

"Well now, it's just you and me," he said in a whisper, flashing his yellow teeth in a crooked smile. It was then I realized that the light in the hallway had truly gone out.

* * *

He dragged me back to my tower. Squirming and kicking and struggling to get out of his grip, thrashing about and leaving little bite marks all over his giant calloused hand. They smothered my lips the entire time.

I was fuming. How come _he_ could find my tower while I couldn't? If he were in Cato's army, I bet he was treated like a common dog. Not that I cared.

I thought I was going to fall straight to my death when we fumbled over the open stairway. The night sky was full of stars and never did I imagine they could look so close. But they were still so far away, too far for me to reach.

The pitch black beneath me seemed much closer, and the wild rushing of the moat didn't help things much either. I stopped struggling so much. One false move and we'll both tumble down, down, down to a pitch-black midnight death. And this time it won't be just a nightmare. I wondered if perhaps it would be better to fall and drown than to have to endure Cato and his men.

I seriously weighed my options until I realized how selfish I'm being. If I jump to my death, what would befall Mother and Prim? And Gale and Peeta and the rest of 12? Peeta may possibly know the whereabouts of 12's current hideout, but most of 12 is in the 2 dungeons and only I am not. However, I spend my days also as a prisoner - just a more personal one. Still, the terrifying prospect of committing suicide on the spot and leaving my loved ones alone in the world forced me to take every dangerous step calmly and slowly, just as my guard was instructing me. He's grinning at me, pleased that I am obeying. Not knowing why, but pleased. I want to wipe that grin smoothly off his face.

_I'll shove him, _I thought nastily. _I'll shove him down when we reach the other side. _

But he got there first and he dragged me inside my tower with him. "I think we'll close the door," he said, his bright eyes gleaming, "No one will find you here." _Fuck you, _I thought as he turned his back to me to fix the door. In a flash, I jumped on him! I clawed whatever of his face in the proximity of my hands and scratched his neck and back as harshly as I can with my overgrown nails. My feet tried to kick at any part of him and my hands did whatever damage they could.

He screamed ("BITCH!"), and wildly thrashed about the room, trying to shake me off like a dog. I clung to him as tight as I could and blindly hit and punched him with my fists as hard as physically possible. This fight renewed some of my strength in the old days, and I felt almost like a warrior again, like I could take him on in a bare fistfight - until he grabbed me by the ankles and threw me over his shoulders.

I landed in a heap on the ground, reminded once again that I am a small and thin woman and I have been manipulated by the king of 2. Damn my weaknesses. All this time I am screaming, screaming as he slapped my cheeks purple and shoved me hard onto my bed, which Cato had arranged for me in bright, lady colors and joyful hues that do me no good now. I don't even have time to try and knee him - he grabbed me and shoved me against the wall, his legs ravaging mine to tear them apart. My throat is becoming raw from my shouts and it looked like the inevitable will happen no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try. The soldier had a hungry look on his face in the dark as he fiddled with his clothing and my own (which that damned Cato kept lacy, satiny, and thin).

I'm terrified beyond belief, I don't want to accept this fate, I'm still fighting as he grinned down horribly at me with his yellow teeth. The bulging, bright-blue eyes were now large bug eyes peering into somewhere they didn't belong, didn't belong at all. I know how this is going to end and yet a part of me deep inside desperately begged fate not to let this happen, to stop this. Perhaps even death would have been better than this. I saw his lips moving, he's talking but I don't hear what he's saying - a nametag on his uniform glinted when it caught streaks of moonlight - CASPER - I'm just struggling to get him off me - anything - anyone - please, help - no one will help me now - but still, please - _PLEASE_ -

I jumped at the coldness of the knife he suddenly had gotten out, that I didn't know he had. He growled, "One more chitchat from you - "

He pressed the blade further into my throat, and I could hide my horror no longer as I see the pool of growing redness seeping onto the knife.

An unearthly groan filled the room, piercing and haunting with its eerie wail. It was a creature deep in pain, a creature on the verge of being swallowed by death. It didn't come from my lips, as I thought it was at first - it emerged from Casper's. I watched Casper, horrified, as his body bent forward, slumping onto what would've been me if I had not moved out of the way in time. It was easy for me to slip from his lifeless grasp. The hands were cold and clammy and unmoving.

I'm looking into another pair of blue eyes - this time, a familiar pair of cold, icy orbs. My eyes trailed from the king's hulking form to his giant moonlit shadow to the giant blade gleaming with blood that he held in his hand. Despite his calm demeanor, he looked furious.

He nudged the body of Casper with one thick boot. Then, seemingly satisfied he was dead, Cato yanked aside the balcony curtains and threw open the balcony doors, which before I had thought completely unopenable. Grabbing the dead body as if it were a rag doll, Cato lifted it and hurled it off the balcony, straight into depths of the night.

I'm standing there openmouthed, I'm also standing there with my entire body shaking and my knees about to collapse. Cato locked the balcony doors shut and drew the curtains so the room was dark and private again and nobody could come in.

He came over to me, and I shook even more not because of the murder he committed but because he was a man and I was a helpless woman and he was an armed man, and I was an armless woman who had almost been to the very last layer of hell. Then he suddenly pressed me into his warm chest. I tried to draw myself away at first, but his hand soothed and rubbed my back lightly as a friend would comfort another, and my head, as of its own accord, came to rest on his shoulder.

_He's a man, _my head told me.

_He saved you tonight, _retorted my heartbeat (which was ever increasing even though the obvious danger was dead).

I stayed that way for a long time, pressing into him and burying my head in his chest. He did not seem to mind even though he was furious before, and his giant, rough, calloused hands that were somehow familiar caressed my back and hair with the gentlest touches I hadn't known a man could make. He held me in his arms just like after our lovemaking. While I wrapped my arms tighter around him, he wrapped his warm, red king's cloak with white fur for trimming around me.

He carried me to bed. When he tucked me in, I felt strangely small and dependent, and I didn't like that. But I was too weak and too tired and confused tonight to put up with another fight. Pulling up my straps, I thought he was going to leave when he turned away, and I strangely panicked, for I desperately didn't want to be alone tonight after all that's happened. But as it turned out he was fetching a chair and he plopped it right next to my snug, warm bed.

He uttered to me the first words he's spoken all night, "Sleep."

To some it may be a simple message. And it was. But to me, it meant everything at that moment. It was the easiest thing I had ever been commanded to do. I closed my eyes, and felt warm, pink lips press against my forehead, cast upon me like a spell. And I fell fast asleep.

Sometimes I awoke at times during the night, often when I jerked awake, after my mind flashed me frightening images of shadows and dark visuals. I woke in a dreamlike trance and gazed around for any sources of the frightening images. One time I realized Cato did not draw the curtains all the way, as there was still a slit of moonlight coming from the balcony doors. It brought about the dark room a little shaft of light.

It brought my world a little closer to dawn.

* * *

I woke up feeling ill in the morning. Not plain ill, but in fact very ill. I briefly wondered if last night was a dream. Then I am horrified that perhaps only the Cato part was a dream and I had been knocked out and...the thought hurt too much to finish. Something mysteriously dark clouded my mind, but I couldn't recall any definition of it.

I sat up, daring to stretch and yawn a bit. OW! It felt like I had been stung in the cheeks. When I felt them they were both throbbing. So last night had not been a dream. I feel a sharp stab in my chest. Suddenly, it's as if I have trouble breathing.

My breathing is rapid and heavy and panicked as I glanced around in a wide-eye frenzy. I don't know for what I'm looking for but I stop looking once my eyes land on him. Asleep on a chair he might have pulled next to my bed, his head resting on one arm. His lashes fluttered every so often now and then, matching the beating of my heart.

My breath came back to me again. So the inevitable didn't happen. Because this man had saved me. Because this man, who had me for himself, had saved me. Because this man had murdered. For me.

For me. For _me_.

But why? What made him kill one of his own guard for someone from another district? And why do I assume he killed him for _me_? He could've killed for a variety of different reasons. He had lots of reasons.

Maybe he thought he was a burglar. Or maybe...

I had to halt my thoughts as the king's eyes suddenly flashed open. They glanced piercingly at me - straight at me, and then scanned the tower room. He got up noiselessly. If he was aware I was watching him, he didn't seem to notice. Only, he reached over and swiped the cloak, the one that I had forgotten was still wrapped around my shoulders. The soft red velvet made gentle swooshing sounds as he fastened it around his own shoulders.

My hands rake through my disheveled hair, automatically twisting the strands into a braid.

I hated awkward situations. As if my life wasn't crazy and upside down enough. But then again, I hated being in-debt to people even more. To Peeta, for saving me that faithful day. To King Undersee (but I already repaid him by serving in his army). And now to the brutal king of 2. He and I had struck up a deal, but I only agreed to protect Prim. And now I owe him (big time). I fucked up so badly. How did my life come into this? How did my life come under the shadow of a monster?

He now looked at me, but neither of us spoke. The silence was driving me crazy. His stare was driving me crazy. I had to say something. Say something, Katniss. Say something, you idiot!

_And not, _thank you for saving my life_. He didn't. No, instead you owe him. He just wants to suck you dry. _

This made me frustrated. All I wanted to do was scream. Maybe that's what inspired my first words to him this morning. "I am no slut." I felt self-conscious as soon as I said it. I'm not! I wasn't!

He looked me in the eye. A momentary silence reigned about the room. Then he nodded. "I know."

I was not convinced. "I know what you're thinking. I'm not - "

"I know you're not a whore, either," he interrupted.

This time the silence that followed could've been considered more than a bit awkward. But again he didn't seem to notice. And he didn't seem to care.

_He doesn't care about anyone but himself, _I thought sullenly to myself. I suddenly glanced up. Perhaps_ that's_ why he killed his guard. "The only reason you saved me was because you didn't want anyone else, wasn't it? You want me to yourself, you didn't want to share my body with anyone else. That's why you saved me."

"Do you believe that?" His voice was soft, so soft that I looked at him with a startled expression. He wasn't looking at me.

I expected him to be angry, furious even. Deep down, I know I probably should've muttered some sort of thanks, but it just made me even more frustrated at how unfair everything was. I didn't want to thank this monster for killing that other one, especially not since he didn't treat me like a human being.

I bit my lip. I was suddenly very uncomfortable. "Why else would you have cared?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. His mouth twitched a bit, enough for me to notice. It was then that I decided I've had enough of this silence. Jumping out of bed (after making shirt I had at least my nightshirt on), I quickly began stripping off the bed sheets and materials.

"What are you doing?"

"Could I wash my bedsheets sometime? They smell...like sex." I wanted to rid all memories of last night for good. Forget the fucking debt.

He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. "Isn't that what we've been doing?"

"I know...but can I - can I wash them? To - " I was blushing fiercely now, " - to get rid of t-the _stuff_?"

He stared at me for a while longer, and I just know he was watching how red my cheeks turn! He proved my point by breaking into gales of laughter. I thought he muttered, "You are so precious", but I wasn't sure. I did hear him when he said, "You know there are plenty of servants scurrying around."

"I don't trust any of them."

"Not even Lavinia?" A look of amusement adorned his face.

I scowled. He had no right! "You - "

"I know more than you give me credit for. You confide in her."

Lavinia was definitely the sweetest, most innocent being I've met in this kingdom, but caring about someone is only another added weakness. If I am to remain strong, I decided it was best for me not to show my emotions. "No. She's only here on yours orders, and I see her nothing more than a naive, dull-witted child with a high-pitched voice. I only notice her at times I want someone to talk to." I decided to sound extra harsh just for the hell of it.

Cato didn't get to reply before a chorus of muffled sobs echoed from the hallway. I glanced slowly at him, my heart sinking in horror. The unlocked door slowly slid open. A red-eyed girl stuck her head into the room, strands of hair coming off from her usually-neat bun.

"I - I didn't know I bothered you so much," she sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks (The only thing I could do was stare in horror), "I didn't know how you t-t-t-thought so. I'm r - r - really sorry f- for bothering you this whole t - t - time. N - next time I'll keep m - my childness to m-myself. I'll v-v-visit L-Lady Clove!" And with that the maid ran the way she came from, her sobs following her down the hall. She dropped whatever she was carrying inside the room.

My mouth, which had been hanging open, closed and opened, opened and closed. "I didn't - I was - "

"You were?" Cato inquired, his eyebrow raised. His tone was very much amused.

"You set her up!" I hissed at him, jerking my head in his direction. "You set me up with her!"

"I had welcomed her to visit you in the morning if she was pleased. I set up nothing. She was here of her own accord."

Somehow it didn't seem like he was lying, but nonetheless I was still angry. "It's your fault. She was my friend," I hissed venomously, pulling the sex-soaked covers up to my chin. All that lovemaking last night had - wait, lovemaking?! WHAT THE FUCK?! Has everything that happened driven me crazy? What we did before my "exploration" last night was DEFINITELY NOT lovemaking. If I called it lovemaking, it was by accident. I do not love anybody in 2 and not him, especially not him! My mind has been fucked with, I thought, and then I mentally slapped myself for having to phrase it _that_ way.

"Katniss."

I looked up with a snarl crossing my face. He didn't even blink an eye. "You look as if you're about to vomit."

No, thank you. I've eaten food rotten to the core before on a tender, empty eleven-year-old stomach and have never once thrown up before. Sometimes my mother's patients would, but it disgusted me so much that I'd always step out of the room. I've always promised that I'd save myself the embarrassment of throwing up in front of other people. If I can hold down Greasy Sae's stew of squirrel organs and dried mulberry tea leaves, I can hold down whatever the fuck I ate last night, which I can't remember at all.

I started peeling the bed sheets again, ignoring Cato. Or trying to. It's rather difficult to change your bedspread when he stood there smirking at you as if you and him had an important secret between yourselves and he has the power of letting the world in on it or not.

* * *

**Third Person POV**

"You're here. Good. I was expecting you," said a silky voice. Clove sat at her vanity table, peering at her reflection. It had to be perfect.

Lavinia took a deep breath and began brushing her mistress's hair. Her own red hair was bundled up in a falling-apart mess that used to look something like a top-notch bun.

"My Lady, I apologize profoundly for being late," Lavinia began, but Clove shushed her.

"Keep your mouth shut, girl. Right now my hair is of most importance. You are so late!"

Lavinia didn't say anything else, even though she had to bite her tongue to manage it. She tasted a couple drops of warm, metallic blood and shuddered.

Clove's hair wasn't difficult to brush. It had been rinsed and lathered and squeezed (excess) and washed in fruit juice so much that it was like one, long, thick, shiny thing. Despite her guilt, Lavinia secretly envied her hair. It was thick and dark and shiny and Lavinia wished her own hair could be a few shades darker or a few shades lighter. She didn't like being stuck in the middle with average hair and an average face that she's always been told she had. She was used to being average...but her young heart secretly yearned for someone someday to maybe - to just maybe look at her the way King Cato looked at Katniss or the way Lady Clove looked at King Cato.

Lavinia thought Clove was beautiful in every way except personality-wise. She didn't dislike her, but sometimes, just sometimes, Lavinia wished that Clove would treat her like she treated King Cato. Whenever he came in, Lady Clove's day would suddenly turn exceptional. Even if she was having scream fit with Lavinia, whenever King Cato stepped into the room, Lady Clove's attitude suddenly became much nicer and sweeter.

_Lady Clove is sweet on His Majesty, _Lavinia thought with a little giggle. _But is His Majesty sweet on her? Does his heart yearn for her? They should, after all they are engaged. But I've seen the way he gazes at Katniss. It's like those fairytales Mama used to tell me. _With a little sigh, Lavinia giggled once more, dreamily stroking one of Clove's shiny locks.

Unfortunately for the maid, Clove had heard the giggle. Now, Clove didn't like secrets that she weren't in on. And whenever she heard so much as a peep or a giggle behind her back (literally), she did not think otherwise. She hadn't slept ever since meeting that_ Katniss_, and she wouldn't sleep until she could get her hands on that little piece of filth. How dare it spat on her - and how dare it sat in her seat! It even dared to look at her Cato. It was vying for Cato's attention - she just knew it - dirty whore - she'll make sure it gets what it deserves. Clove's lip curled - to think that she had to spend extra time with her eyeliner this morning just because her eyes were red! Oh yes, she'll show them.

"Laviniaaaa," she started to say, rolling her tongue.

Lavinia wondered if she was to reply. After all, she had been given orders to keep her mouth shut.

Lady Clove was not a patient lady. "Laviniaaaaaaa," she sang mockingly. How dare this servant girl KEEP SECRETS from her and then IGNORE her?!

Lavinia's eyebrows knitted together. "Yes, my lady?" She set the brush down.

Clove spun her vanity chair around so that she was facing her. A little smile graced her thin lips. But it had not a touch of the friendly, playful grins she saw on His Majesty. And Katniss's scowls looked friendlier than that smile.

"How are you? My...little pet." Clove slowly got up from her chair, her shiny, tangle-free hair cascading down her back. Her grin widened.

"I'm g-g-good, Your Majesty..." Lavinia suddenly found herself wanting out of here more than anything else in the world. She took a step back because Lady Clove was coming closer.

Lavinia closed her eyes. Maybe if she closed them this would go away. She felt her bun being taken out and her messy hair sweeping over her shoulders. A hand, a small but firm hand glided down her back and played with a couple strands of her hair. Lavinia almost stopped breathing.

Clove was invading her personal space. More than ever. The shorter, dark-haired woman rested her head on one of Lavinia's fragile shoulders.

"I'm so glad you're good. So, so_ glad_." Clove flared her nostrils as if sniffing Lavinia. Her head moved. Lavinia dared not move. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath.

"You're a good little servant girl, aren't you? Always obedient. Always hardworking. Always...loyal." Clove found it rather amusing to circle around Lavinia. Poor little rat was shaking, and it was all because of her, soon-to-be-queen Clove's majestic powers. She loved it, loved it, loved it.

"Let's not play anymore of your games, shall we?" She cooed to Lavinia in a sweet tone. "Let's play one of _my_ games." Her hand scanned through the maid's red hair, and Lavinia couldn't hide her shaking anymore. She wanted to say something, but what if Lady Clove -

A smirk tipped on Clove's bright, painted lips. "I know you've been playing games with Cato, too. You're been playing _secrets_ with him, Lavinia.

"But I don't like secrets. I don't like them one bit. Now we're going to play Troothsie. I ask you a question, you tell me the truth. Simple enough even for someone like you to understand."

Lavinia finally found a small spark of her voice. "M-M-My L-Lady - "

"Shut up. Now what's that Katniss girl doing outside of prison?"

Guilt was added to Lavinia's fright. She'd been taking care of Lady Clove for a long time, but Katniss was so kind. Could she really - gulp - _betray_ one of them for the other?

"ANSWER ME!"

But honesty is the best policy, right? "His Majesty ordered it."

Clove felt a firestorm explode inside her. Her hands, they itched to cut something. Right. Now. "Ah. But why would he order such a thing? What does he want with her?"

Lavinia couldn't tell the Mistress! It'd be too awkward, too awkward! And she didn't want to embarrass Katniss or His Majesty. Her head started pounding along with her heart. Bile formed in her throat, and big, fat, salty teardrops brimmed in her eyes.

_If it was what she thought it was..._Clove forced herself a deep breath. She looked her maid straight in the eye and whispered breathily, deeply, "Tell me what relations they have with each other! Are they...intimate? Do they...kiss? Do they...?"

Lavinia's lip trembled - she couldn't bear the next words that she knew were going to come out of Clove's mouth. She closed her eyes. She didn't reply.

But Clove's paranoia understood everything. And she went into pandemonium.

Clove started screaming, not screaming but SCREAMING. And HOLLERING and SHRIEKING and YELLING and SHAKING her head until her hair flew out behind her like a mangled nest. Her voice continued to carry down hallways, corridors, everything. She shrieked and she shrieked, clawing her own dress and then Lavinia's face.

Lavinia didn't even have time to whimper before Clove started grabbing whatever she could find and hurling it everywhere. Precious jewels, makeup, her fruit, anything that was around. She cowered at the sight of the woman tearing her hair and beating her chest with her fists. She was such a coward! She never did anything...and then her gaze fell upon the door. Instinct told her to run. She didn't think twice.

Clove grabbed Lavinia before the maid could make it out the door. Yanking her by the hair, she threw poor Lavinia upon the ground and proceeded to savagely shower fruit and a tea set upon her. Lavinia tried shielding herself with her cut hands, but the pieces were sharp and the fruits were hard and it was getting harder to see with her hair and tears covering her face.

Clove had ran out of fruit, but she picked up her carving knife. Lavinia tried to crawl away but gave a loud yelp of pain when Clove viciously stepped on her stomach. Once again she was grabbed by her tangled hair. Once again Lady Clove had shoved her face close to hers, looking her in the eye. But what scared Lavinia even more was that Clove was yanking her up by one hand. The other held the knife.

Lavinia watched it glint in Clove's small hand, the same glint now shining in those steely gray eyes of hers. Lavinia's entire being shook as fresh warm tears ran down her face all over again. "Please, Highness, don't, I beg of you! - "

"Shut up Red Hiding Hood, this might hurt a little..." Clove's grin vanished as she carefully made the first cut.

* * *

"What were you_ thinking_, sneaking out in the middle of the night?"

"What was I thinking?! _You're_ the one who left the door open, in case your peanut-sized brain can't recall!"

"_My_ _peanut-sized brain_ can recall you doing other very stupid things, 12." He hesitated, before adding, "You could've gotten yourself killed."

Katniss felt as if she'd been hit by a brick. "...Why do you care?"

FUCK! Cato thought, slapping a pitcher of water off the nightstand. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with a response to that.

"And anyhow, who is Clove?" Katniss looked down at her hands, not at him. She remembered the girl from last night well.

Cato froze. He stared at her. Stared hard. "What?" He wasn't sure if he heard the name correctly. If he did, he was in a big. Pile. Of. Shit.

"I said, who is Clove? That dark-haired girl at the feast? I saw her last night and she sent your hounds aka Peacekeepers after me. She claimed she was your _queen_."

"She is not."

Katniss felt a weight lifted off her chest. She knew the girl couldn't have been queen! But if she wasn't queen... "Who was she then?"

"She's...someone like you."

He was met by silence. Then: "I am nothing like her!" she said rather snappily. "And anyways, that doesn't tell me who she is!"

"I know."

She mistook his tone as one for sarcasm. "The least you can do is tell me who she fucking is. It's not like I don't know about the others."

He froze. "What others?" he asked softly, whispered in a dangerous tone.

Katniss knew that what she was doing at the moment may not have been the smartest thing to do, but she refused to be anyone's piece of meat. She was used to standing on her own ground. "The other girls whose lives you fucked up."

His hands clenched into a fist, a bit of red clouded his vision. His teeth gnashing together, Cato felt his blood boiling. "I'm starting to see your resemblance to them," he snarled.

"Maybe it's because I'm EXACTLY like them, another one of your victims!" Katniss retorted, "You were going to throw me away sooner or later and then go to that _Clove._ That's what I get for sleeping with the enemy!" She hurled a pillow at him after letting out a frustrated scream.

Despite himself, he couldn't help the amused smile that suddenly graced his lips. "Are you jealous, Katniss?" he asked softly, tilting his head to the side just a bit.

Katniss felt heat and redness sweeping over her body. Standing up, she drew herself to her full height. "I am not _jealous_," she hissed vehemently through her teeth as though if she was a viper about to strike, "I am sleeping with the enemy, and I'm being used as a pawn! I am put in danger everyday - "

"Shut up, Katniss. You are not in danger everyday. I may ask things of you, but we both agreed to a deal. I could have easily tossed you to the dogs, I could just have easily as broken my part of the deal and watched you suffer. Yet you fare better than any of the prisoners here. You are given more than enough to eat, a room of your own. Protection from soldiers with little moral. I don't care one bit for your attitude."

"My ATTITUDE?!" snapped Katniss indignantly. "_Excuse me_ for being taken as a prisoner, being forced to sell my body to protect my family, and being nothing more than used! Excuse me for not having a fruity attitude because there's no one I can trust around here! Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me!" She furiously began twisting her hair into a tight, ropey braid all the while glaring at him.

Tension hung about them, adrift in the air as if part of their breaths. They stared at each other for awhile in silence.

"I thought you trusted Lavinia," Cato said, quietly.

Katniss didn't speak for a couple of moments. "I really hurt her, didn't I?"

"She's sensitive," he nodded, "She takes everything to heart. But she really isn't a bad person. I do not approve of her gossip, however." He looked pointedly at Katniss, who bit her lip. One minute he acted emotionless, the next he went all berserk. She really didn't know what to make of it - what to make of him.

She was just examining him deep in thought - when the doors suddenly burst open and a redheaded woman threw herself onto the ground.

* * *

**Katniss First Person Pov**

"Lavinia!"

I have never seen such a sorrowing site (even in war). The girl's simple maid dress was torn and stained with dried blood. Her hair was not in a bun anymore, but simply a wild nest with little things in it (that looked like small chunks of _fruit_?).

It was a struggle to help Lavinia to her feet, so Cato and I both (rather roughly) yanked her. I couldn't help noticing that she flinched at our touches and wouldn't turn her face towards us; she simply threw her face on my bed and sobbed (I had to note that her sobs were unlike any sobs I've ever heard of).

"Lavinia." No answer.

"Lavinia. It's me." Still no answer. The king and I exchanged glances, and I do not remember the last time I saw such concern on his face. It arose something in my chest that I did not think of, not at that moment anyway.

"Lavinia, I'm really sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it and I didn't want to hurt you. I take it all back, okay?" Apologizing was not usually something I did in front of Cato. I've learned that District 2 warriors see apologies as a weakness because you are admitting you were wrong. Nonetheless I meant it so bad when I said it to Lavinia.

"Lavinia, please."

She was no longer sobbing uncontrollably now, but I'm pretty sure both Cato and I could still hear her weeping softly. The sound clawed at a corner of my heart, she sounded so much like a girl Prim's age, so very, very much. But I'm not a healer and I'm not usually one to comfort people, especially if I don't know what's wrong.

"Lavinia, please tell us what is upsetting you."

"Lavinia, we'd appreciate it," added Cato.

Slowly, very slowly, Lavinia turned her head towards us, and I realized how hard my heart was pumping. I'm ashamed to admit to myself that if it weren't for the hair, I probably wouldn't recognize her. Her normally-creamy skin was streaked with dirt and covered with little scars, some still red, and big, ugly purple bruises. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying. The tears were still coming out.

"Lavinia, what happened?" I found myself speaking more harshly than I intended to.

"Who did this?" Cato asked, in an even sharper tone.

Lavinia didn't reply. Instead she quickly buried her head in her arms again. But Cato, grabbing her hair and swinging her head so that she faced us again, leaned close to her face. "Who did this to you, Lavinia? I command you to tell me!"

I felt sick when I saw Lavinia's head roll back like a rag doll. Cato's cold eyes widened. I fought the sudden urge to hurl, for upon seeing this reminded me of seeing little children dying in the Seam and how their heads would casually roll back just like Lavinia's did.

"Lavinia, I'm begging you, please speak!" I didn't care how desperate I sounded. I wanted to know what had happened to Lavinia - Prim number two.

Lavinia moved her head, and the relief on Cato's face matched my own as she confirmed she was still alive. Then, not looking either of us in the eye, Lavinia titled her head back and opened her mouth.

Bright red. The inside of her mouth was a blinding, bright red. Her teeth were stained red. Had she been poisoned? Stabbed? I peered into her mouth some more and suddenly I realized something: I do not see a tongue. Someone had cut off Lavinia's tongue. Right out of her mouth.

"So that's why you couldn't tell us who did this," muttered Cato. The poor creature nodded in reply, tears still streaming down her face.

A tidal wave of anger and pity and sorrow coursed within me. What kind of scumbag would be cruel enough, crazed enough - Wait a minute. "Lavinia, weren't you going to visit Clove after you...left the room?"

At that name, Lavinia gave a terrified yelp (or as much of a yelp as she could) and tears began falling faster from her eyes.

The speed that Cato rushed out was indeed a superhuman speed. I heard him shouting curses and swearwords as he marched down the hall, his kingly red cloak flying out behind him.

I have never been the best at comforting someone, but sometimes that didn't matter. I held Lavinia close to me. I even let her bury her head into my shoulder. At that moment, I realized that Clove, queen or not, was a monster. She was way worse than Cato.

Lavinia looked at me, and tried to smile through her tears. The sight of it almost broke my heart, and I hugged her tighter, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling bubbling in my stomach. I went to fetch Lavinia the doctor, but hadn't taken two steps when I doubled over, and threw up.

* * *

**Katniss First Person Pov**

Sometimes I feel like life likes to fuck us around. The doctor came pretty quick (somehow I imagined Cato having something to do with this). After he treated Lavinia, he came to see me. He handed me a funny little thing and told me to go and pee on it.

That's how I knew that life liked to fuck me the most. I sat there for a long time and didn't speak, didn't move. Lavinia had to comfort me when it should've been vice versa.  
She couldn't talk, but she communicated with me to tell _him_. The very last thing I wanted to do, but I did it anyway, because Lavinia wanted me to and because he would've eventually had to know.

This was all his fault. He was a monster. How could I have thought otherwise? His face remained impassionate as I told him. He didn't speak nor move a muscle. He muttered "Fuck," when I shouted, "Say something, you bastard!" and punched him multiple times on the chest. And he let me.

I have one advantage to take of this. He will not hurt me as long as I carry his child within me, which means he will also not likely hurt my loved ones. This is pretty much the only reason I manage to stay alive this moment.

I didn't jump like I normally would have when he asked if I'd like to see Prim and Mother. I knew what he meant. I had to tell them. As degrading, as humiliating, as disgraceful as it was, I had no choice.

I haven't seen Prim and Mother for months, and the sight of them stirred something within me. Normally, I would've jumped and ran to them and crushed them into me (and I am normally not a hugger). But...not this time. However glad my heart is to see them, it's also filled with dread, such as if poison is weighing it down.

They got up at the sight of me. Their eyes looked a little brighter. Prim ran right to me, trying to reach me. It broke my heart when the bars stopped her.

When our hands reach for each other through the bars, theirs squeezed mine until I felt like I was bruising. Our teardrops mingled, as did our touches.

"Katniss - is that really you - "

"Oh Katniss, I thought..."

"Mother...Prim..." I whispered, dreading the upcoming. I closed my eyes, knowing that Cato was standing right behind me. _Probably with that bastardy impassive look on his face_, I thought angrily.

"Katniss! Let me see you, let me take a good look at you..."

"You've been through a lot..."

Have I?

No kidding.

I took a deep breath, but couldn't will the courage to make eye contact. So instead I stare at their brown loafers, caked in dirt and mud. I avoided meeting their eyes at all costs. This was almost as bad as looking death in the eye on the battlefield. I waited for their excited chatter to stop. Then, taking a deep breath, not coming up to meet their eyes, I told them.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

**I wanted her to realize she was pregnant **after** meeting Clove...that way I can play the dramatic music: DUH DUH DUH. **

**In this chapter particular, Lavinia kind of reminded me of Dobby from Harry Potter. They're very different characters obviously but I spotted a few similarities. Just thought I'd acknowledge that ;)**

**Once again I apologize for the delay. Poor, poor Lavinia! This chapter was difficult for me to write, so I left out the details of Clove's horrible deed. Lavinia was an Avox in the original story and I had planned for her tongue removal in the early stages of this story. Originally it was going to be done by Cato , but I felt like the deed suited Clove better. The idea for Clove didn't come until I was writing the second or third chapter.**

**But do you think Clove loves Cato? **

**Oh, and when I was writing this sentence: **_Lady Clove was not a patient lady_**, I was so tempted to add **_(Or even a lady at all) _**but I refrained from doing so, LOL.**

_**MY BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: There is a contest! Because you all are so amazing, so patient reviewers I will pick one of the reviewers for this chapter to appear as a character in the next chapter. Your name will not simply be mentioned, you will be in the story (I might create a variation of your name though ex: If your pen name is Guest, I might put you in as Gus or Guesse. That's just so I won't end up having names like Banana42 in the story, but I'll still let you know if I pick you :) To enter all you have to do is review. **_

_**I will pick only one reviewer, unless there are two reviews that are absolutely so brilliant, so amazing, so super-duper that my brain cannot decide! They will not be picked at random but instead I will pick the one that is the most insightful, detailed, and inspirational. You all are amazing, but sometimes one of you really make me smile for an entire day. (And even if I don't pick your review, know it's the thought that counts and I still adore them all.) Unfortunately, I will not be counting one-word reviews or the classic 'update, please/now/soon/asap,' you get the idea, etc. Although I love you all, we're going to keep it fair :D**_

**I'm sorry for making you wait so long, but know that I WILL finish this story and FOAM if it's the last things I ever do. I have plans for both of them :) On a side note, I'm planning to write some Greek mythology this summer. Of course I'll work on Enraptured Prisoner as well. **

**To the lovely reviewers of last chapter, deep thanks to you all SO MUCH: **

**nsheldonb (thank you so much for being so patient! now you know! :), ****sweet-mclovin (thank you for reviewing :), thepinkmartini (always love your reviews, thanks for always bothering to review! And thank you for acknowledging Lavinia. Preview #1 will come in at a later chapter), Firework7 (lol glad you like it, ty for reviewing :), babyblazeful (Thank you so much! 2 of the previews are for this chapter, but the other one will come in for a later chapter), The Giggling Gummy Bear (sadly at the time I was not even close to being done, I'll be honest but thanks for always reviewing. It is done now and the next one is in works! And thank you so much for letting me know, you have no idea how much it means to me :), Darkness Bandit (wow! Thanks for the long review! Clove scares me too, but don't worry, Finnick will make a reappearance ;)! And as for Katniss I mentioned once that she was almost but not yet 20 and Cato is 21), sundragons9 (hi, I missed talking to you! hope to speak with you again sometime, ty for review), Inescapable Void (Oh, man, you always have a way of making me smile. I really appreciate your review, more than I can say. I love them!), Abigail25, Guest, Guest 2, rayleen14, ExeliaWave, CatniponFire, Sweet Violent Lightning, thank you all! Hookonpeeta, dragonflame, A Tasty Little Thing, thank you all so much :) Jacqueline Rasky and all the other reviewers that wanted an update, here is your update and thank you so much for your review.**

**A special little shout out to SarahJToner, aww, thanks! Your review meant so much to me 3 It made my day for days :) **


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